Chasing Emotions
by hipster-rivaille
Summary: Ereri (Eren/Levi) fic. Unfound souls, wasted away from their existing lives. They find eachother and suddenly, things are irrefutably complete. Eren Yeager has lost all of his emotion and lands himself in a psych ward. There, he meets Levi; another lost soul who helps him find emotion again. There is little else to say.
1. Chapter 1: Drowned (Prologue)

**Author's Notes & Warnings:**  
>My first attempt at writing fanfiction.<br>It's heavily flawed, so please don't expect much. (Or anything, to be quite honest.)  
>Please take note, trigger warnings of all kinds. Self-harm, suicidal thoughts and attempts. These warnings apply <strong>throughout<strong> the fic, and not just for the first chapter.  
>This fic is heavy on depression.<br>If you spot any errors, or have any problems with absolutely anything in this fic, don't hesitate to message me!  
>Thank you.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Let's pretend like I'm normal for a bit <em>  
><em>Like my arms aren't dripping in crimson.<em>  
><em>Like I'm not alone.<em>  
><em>Like I want to smile, and live.<em>

_Let's pretend._

I sat. Just sat. There wasn't a will to do anything in me. I wanted to sit here and let myself drown in this empty emotion. The nicked razor's effect was doing nothing.

It was merely _pretty_ to watch this blood flow down my arms. Bright red; and full of life. Slumped in the bathroom I just sat and watched; my head empty of any thoughts.

I was drowning, drowning, drowning. Or maybe I was already dead? I could feel the solitude in the air, heavy and stagnant. It followed me around-no, it came from me. I radiated solitude. At one point, I'm sure I wanted to be warm again. Now, that feeling was lost, and had been for a such a long time. The atmosphere had clung to me until I knew nothing else.

Was I alive?

_Let's pretend._

I was sleepy, so sleepy. My eyes closed, and my head lolled to the side as I lost consciousness. The last thing I felt was the deep breath I took in.

_I don't know how to pretend._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mikasa<em>**

Mikasa had always been very, very protective of Eren. She couldn't remember when she had started loving him, after being adopted into his family. They had always been close in this unsaid way that existed between siblings. She had been accepted, in the Yeager household; and in Eren's life. Armin (who had been Eren's best friend) too willingly accepted her companionship, and they formed a trio. Armin, the smart one. Mikasa, the strong one. And Eren, the leader. It was an odd way to describe their group, but Mikasa couldn't have cared less. She had a family; friends. She was _happy_.

Then, things started to change. Eren started to change. Armin left for college early, and then it was just the two of them but unlike before when it hadn't been a problem, things were different.

For all of the time that Mikasa had known him, Eren had been an early riser. He would always run out to meet the day with an excitement that warmed her heart. But then, suddenly, he started waking up late. On the days he had school, he would come out of his room only minutes before the bus came. On the days he didn't, she didn't even know what time he got up. He'd come down only for lunch.

Once, when he failed to show even past noon, she walked up to his room to get him.

She knocked. Once, twice. There was no answer. Unsure of what to expect, she opened the door herself and walked in, expecting him to be asleep.

Mikasa would never forget what she found. Eren just laid there in his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He hadn't even noticed her walk in. A moment passed. Mikasa felt something grab her heart.

"Eren! Eren!" she rushed over, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. She watched his eyes glaze over before he blinked, turning to her.

"Huh… yeah, Mikasa. What's up?" His voice was empty.

That was when she knew for sure that there was something wrong with him. She had been trying to ignore the signs for the past few months. _A phase_, she thought. _It'll get better_, she thought.. Pawning it off on Armin leaving and teenage hormones, she let him be.

But now she knew. Mikasa felt her heart crack.

Yet she didn't do anything. She wanted to, she tried. But seeing Eren like that scared her and she didn't know what to do. She didn't understand it, and their distant father couldn't really have cared less. He paid too less attention to them to really notice anything. Mikasa didn't know who to go to. She was lost. _A phase, he's just going through a minor depression. He'll get past it._

He didn't want to go out, didn't want to leave his room.

_A phase_.

He stopped talking to all of his friends. And they stopped calling back.

_A phase…_

He started forgetting to eat. She'd have to remind him to eat; call him down when it was time for meals. She never went to his room after that, though. It had scared her too much.

_A…_

Mikasa felt him slipping through her fingers, through gaps she had never known were there. She couldn't grasp at him; couldn't get ahold of him. Mikasa knew how to protect him from others and she knew how to entertain his ideas. What she didn't know was how to protect him from himself.

However, there was only so long she could avoid reality. Finding him nearly dead and sitting in a pool of his own blood in the boy's bathroom at school was when reality shattered.

It wasn't something she could avoid anymore.

* * *

><p>Eren<p>

I woke up in a hospital room. My arms stung. There was a nurse standing in front of me, asking me something.

_"Eren? Eren? My name is Petra and I've been your nurse for the past few days. You've woken up a few times before, I'm not sure if you remember. Your sister has agreed to move you to another ward. This is good news! _You're going to be moved today. Your doctor, , has decided it's safe for you to get up and about again. Your sister has already brought all of your things, so you're good to go as soon as you're ready." Her voice came into focus as I blinked up at her.

"Okay." I said.

She paused, as if waiting for something. Then, "...Sweetie you've got to get up now. Come on, I'll help you." I blinked again, as she held up me up while I stepped off the bed. "Careful, easy now. You'll probably stumble a bit since you haven't walked for a while, and the morphine still isn't completely out of your system." True to her words, I tripped as soon as I took as step and if it weren't for her I'd have fallen onto the hospital floor.

She still seemed as if she were waiting for something. Finally, she took a deep breath, resigning herself before she said, "Eren, honey, you were admitted to this hospital two days ago because…because of some deep wounds up along your arms. Everyone felt that moving you to the psych ward would really be the best thing for you right now. It's just to help you get completely better." A pause. "That's where we're going now."

"Okay." I said, simply.

The nurse once again seemed like she wanted to say something more, but didn't continue speaking. She led me out of the room after ensuring the band aids on my arms were fine, and we walked down the hall in silence. On the way, we bumped into someone.

" ! We were just heading to your room!" The nurse exclaimed. "Eren seems ready to be transferred. All we need is your final confirmation!"

The man in white smiled. "Ahh, Eren it's nice to see you finally up. I assume Petra has explained your situation. Well, you seem well enough. How do you feel?"

"I feel fine." I said. Silence followed, and Petra was quick to speak again

"Uhm, yes so it's fine to take him to the ward?"

"…Sure go ahead." They both looked at me, and I looked back at them.

Petra exchanged a few more sentences with him but they were all lost on me. Once their conversation finished, we began walking again. After taking the elevator to the fourth floor, we exited and she brought me to a stop in front of a door.

"This is your ward room. Kind of like your dorm, actually!" her nervous chuckles faded into silence. "Well you'll be sharing it with someone else, so you won't be alone. His name is Levi, and he's been here a while. I'll- a nurse will come back around in a few hours to talk to you about your schedule. Until then, you're to take rest in your bed. Don't worry, it won't be for long!" She sighed, as if she were relieved before opening the door.

I walked in, and she shut the door behind me with a quick and apologetic "I'll se-see you later!"


	2. Chapter 2: The First Conversation

**I am alone**

**But I am not lonely**

**Yet they send me a dead man**

**His soul has dripped out**

**And I don't want to share mine.**

It's nearly an hour past six when they send this kid into my room. It's the kid Erwin's warned me about.

_ "You're getting a roommate. The hospital is at nearly full capacity, so don't look at me like that! Keep an eye on him; he's new and a bit of a loose case. Checked in for attempted suicide. I've specifically put him in your room."_

Erwin knows me, and he loves to shove responsibility onto me. I don't reject it though, I owe him too much. He trusts me, and I trust him. I'm not going to fuck that up.

The kid walks in, as if in a haze. Have they roofied him up on meds already? He turns, and his eyes glance around before landing on the bed across the room from mine. He makes his way to it, before lying down onto it stiffly like a corpse.

At that, I can't help but say something. "Kid, the bed could have been dirty. And you just _sat down on it_. Without even _checking. _This is a _hospital_." I don't even try to keep the disgust out of my voice. If he's messy, this isn't going to work unless Erwin _wants_ me to break his nose.

"Yeah…I know." He says, eyes turning to me. It would have pissed me off if his words had contained a single ounce of fight. No, his tone and gaze are only submissive.

Furthermore, he isn't high off meds. His eyes are too large and _clear_. I study his profile, taking in his tawny brown hair and his greenish eyes. He's attractive, in a way that screams of his youth, or at least as much as he can be with the obvious weight he's lost. The circles around his eyes could rival mine. And that's saying something.

"It's not dirty though. In case you were wondering. I cleaned it. I cleaned this entire fucking room so if you do so much as make a _scuff_ on the floor, brat, your face will get acquainted with an unflushed toilet. And don't think I won't." I drop the feeble attempt at being polite. That's all I owe Erwin.

Either way, it doesn't seem to affect this kid. He just mumbles "Okay…" before looking up and staring at the ceiling.

**Yet they send me a dead man**

And I just let it go. I don't like socializing….

I continue with what I'd been doing before he came in; carving something onto a small block of wood. Like I said, Erwin trusts me. And he knows I'm not going to use this pocket knife for anything else. That's not what I'm in for, anyways. The kid continues to stare at the ceiling.

An hour passes. I go to the bathroom to piss once. Then, I carefully collect the wood shavings from the carving and dispose of them. Afterward, I begin to sort through my clothing, refolding just stares at the ceiling. I finish refolding my clothes.

Tick, tock. His eyes don't move even an inch.

Tick, tock. Still glued to the ceiling.

It irks me. Why the hell is he staring at the ceiling like there's lesbian porno playing on in? _I'm_ in this room. He should have at the very least asked me my name. But no, he's disregarded my entire existence-passed it up to stare at the fucking ceiling.

He's probably crazy. A nut case. But I don't really care. He hasn't tried to murder me or rape me yet, so I don't really care.

_ "And I just let it go. I don't like socializing…."_

…but I do like to talk a lot so of course I open my goddamn mouth again.

"Hey kid, what's your name?" I say it like it is, a flat line statement closer to a command than a question. I'm pretty sure Erwin's already told me his name, but I hadn't cared so I'd forgotten it. I still didn't care, so I'd probably forget it again.

His head turns and his eyes flicker to mine. "Eren. Eren Yeager." Once again, there's absolutely nothing in his voice. No pride, no emotion. He may have said those words, but they don't belong to him. They drift away from his mouth, dissolving into an emptiness.

He doesn't ask for my name, but I tell him anyways. "My name's Levi."

I expect the answer I get in return. "Okay."

And then I start to think. About him, for lack of a better subject. Not just that, but he's _new_ and _shiny_ and I'm yet to figure out how he works.

He's the new toy that's been put in my cage.

The brat's in here for attempted suicide-that's what the thick, white bandages around both of his wrists must be for. So, he slit his wrists. Not that smart, then. Slitting your wrists is one of the least effective ways to die- it's extremely unnecessarily painful and unlikely to succeed. Your wrists could end up clotting, effectively saving your life, or someone could find you since it takes a hell of a long time to bleed to death. Not to mention the blaring pain that most people wouldn't be able to stand.

While he doesn't seem very intelligent, it's his lack of any kind of response that leads me to believe he chose that way because of the pain it offered. Maybe he wanted to die in a very painful way.

Still, I'll brand him a dumbass because pretty much any way you could kill yourself is painful. And, he could have chosen a much less _messy_ way.

Or, perhaps he didn't really aim to die- maybe he just wanted to feel pain? Who knows.

So here I am, musing about the attempted suicide of my new roommate toy when the door suddenly bursts open.

It's a nurse, probably to check up on him. Oluo, it's that bastard Oluo, with his douche bag smirk and shitty face.

* * *

><p><em>Eren<em>

I sat up, because the nurse had come to see me.

"Levi! How're you?" the nurse asked, turning to him. Levi, for his part, glared in return.

"I'm _great. _Never been better; stuck in the psych ward like a lunatic. Why, are you going to be joining us soon?" was his reply. Though his wording suggested interest, his voice said otherwise. He didn't care at _all_ and his sarcasm made that evident. I don't know why, but my eyes lingered on him for a little longer, and his words repeated in my head. Maybe it was because of the word 'lunatic'?

The nurse tried to laugh; but it was obviously fake. "No… I'm uhh, fine!" He turned to me, this time. "Hello, Eren. You seem quite settled here already. My name's Oluo. I'm here to talk to you about your schedule. All you need to know is, breakfast is at 8:15 every morning; group therapy follows that, then lunch at 12:00, followed by your own personal therapy sessions, and finally dinner at 8:25 every night. Medication is provided alongside meals. Ah see-look ," the nurse gestured to the wall opposite the door. I noticed a paper taped there, with something typed on it. "Levi already has the schedule pasted on the wall for you. Just follow that."

"It wasn't '_for him'_. It's been there for months." Levi sounded mildly irritated.

"Well… well then." The nurse then turned back to me, scowling. "Eren. Don't scare Petra like that again. Treat her with respect. Just because you're paying to live here doesn't mean you can do whatever you want. You're under _our _control." his tone was smug.

"Okay…." I said.

Oluo left the room after a moment.

I had scared Petra? I…I had woken up and, and…come here.

I remembered the razor I had stolen from my dad's shaving kit in the morning, two days ago. I remembered pocketing it, and going to school and attending classes. I remembered walking to the bathroom during lunch, and taking out that razor. I remembered using it to carve designs into the skin of my arms, and watching blood flow from it. More blood than I had expected. More blood than I had intended, but that was okay. I remembered being very sleepy and then…

Someone probably found me. They found me dying, and thus I was saved and sent to the hospital. They probably had assumed I had tried to kill myself.

Had I tried to? I didn't think so. I had just wanted to feel; to feel something other than this crushing hollowness. I still felt hollow, though. I always felt hollow. For months, it'd been like this. I didn't even know why… all I could remember was this sudden drop of emotion a little while before Armin left.

I didn't know what to make of it until after Armin had left.

_ I didn't miss him._

Armin, my best friend. Armin, someone who I'd have _died_ for. Armin, who was a living _part_ of me.

I didn't feel a thing. He was gone, and I didn't worry about him once. I didn't do anything. I didn't call him, text him, message him, anything. Mikasa at first assumed that I was just a bit depressed because my childhood friend had left. But no….

I went through the motions for her. I would wake up, get ready for school, attend school, come back, eat dinner, and go to bed. And on the weekends, I did even less. At these times, I just felt empty. Hollow. Like I was walking around without a purpose. At first, going through the motions was for her. When that sense of _I owed it to her _left, I just continued doing it because I knew nothing else.

The living dead, if you will. But, I still thought. I thought a lot, empty thoughts that held no value. Things I wouldn't be able to remember later.

Sometimes the emptiness would reach a point where it suffocated me and I _felt_ the solitude and loneliness and crushing depression. And what usually followed would be the pain.

I tried, at least.

It scared Mikasa. I could see that. She didn't know what to do, didn't understand it, so she pretended like it wasn't there. And I let her.

Mikasa. She was the one to agree to my transfer to the psych ward. She probably thought I had tried to kill myself, too.

I laid back down on the bed, and my eyes drifted up towards the ceiling. For some reason, Levi groaned.

"Oi. Brat. Kid. Whatever."

"Yes?" I asked him, looking back at him. You were supposed to look at people when they talked to you.

"Why the fuck do you keep staring at the-no, what're you this in looney bin, for?"

"What am I… in this looney bin…for?" I had to think through the words. I usually stopped paying attention to what people said, so when they said something that required an answer that required actual _thought_, it always took me a while.

Not that anyone really talked to me that way, anyway. I sat up.

"Oh my god. Yes. Yes, on a scale of 1 to I-ate-my-school-teacher how psycho are you to have gotten into this shitty ward?"

"I…didn't…eat my school teacher?" I responded, sounding out whatever ran through my mind. Levi let out a sigh. I looked back up at him.

Actually, no. I didn't look at him. I didn't look at people anymore. It was more like… I looked at them, but didn't see them. Like I was staring at the space of air in front of their face, or above their head.

And Levi knew that. For some reason, he could tell that I hadn't looked at him in the face even once. My charade had fooled everyone I had talked to ever since I had sunk deep below. Yet it hadn't fooled him. More than that, it bothered him. I could tell in the way his gaze bore into me, daring me to look straight back.

"Look me in the face." He said bluntly, his tone flat.

"What…I…you-" I began before he cut me off.

"Look me in the face and tell me what I look like." his voice was clear, and held no doubt or hidden meanings.

I blinked at him. And then, I complied. I looked at him. I don't know why I did; maybe because he asked, or maybe because he had noticed my evasiveness, but I looked up and straight at him.

Levi was short, I hadn't noticed before, but he was short.

His face held an almost childish look- his eyes were narrowed in a flat glare, and his lips were pressed together in a near grimace. His thin brows formed arched acute angles above his steely gray eyes. What gave him away, however, was the crude intelligence that his gaze held. Only experience could bring that. His dark, black hair was cut in a clean undercut, with his part slightly right of the center.

"You have eyes, that are more grey than blue. But the blue's still there; it's from the inside out and it fades into the grey. Your hair is precise, and clean. Your face is _delicate_ in a way but uncomplicated in other. Your expressions keep it from being fragile." I took in the dark, heavy circles under his eyes. "You also don't sleep." I looked at the rest of him, my line of sight dipping to the fitting of his shirt to his torso, the curves of the muscles in his arms. "You're fit, but not as fit as you used to be." Last of all, I took note of his clothing. "You're wearing a white t-shirt, over grey sweatpants." My eyes went back up and into his eyes.

Levi's eyes widened, and for a split second he looked shocked; impressed even. Then, his features arranged themselves back into a disinterested look which seemed to be his neutral expression.

"Stellar on the clothing there, kid. Especially the way you described their color. _So_ descriptive."

I suddenly felt the urge to frown, and my brows knitted together. A second passed before I relapsed and responded with "Okay…"

We sat in silence after that.

**His soul has dripped out**


	3. Chapter 3: Echoes

**A place for time,**

**And time for thoughts.**

**This unhealthy ice**

**Echoes.**

I'll admit, the brat impressed me.

When I first saw him, I'd suspected him of being drugged. Why? Because he didn't say anything, he didn't _express_ anything. No human curiosity, anger, fear; anything. Emotions are what define a human. It doesn't matter how insane you are; you will still love things and you will still hate things.

You can disregard anything. You can ignore places, memories, relationships-but only if people let you.

And people usually do. It's an uncomfortable feeling, when you lose balance and begin drifting away from someone while they do nothing to pull you back. Sometimes you trip, sometimes you fall, and sometimes you just have trouble trying to fit your fingers in between theirs. But no, they don't give you space to get back up, to learn; to find a position where your fingers _do_ fit.

That's what I see when I see Eren. A boy who's been allowed to _let go_.

I'm damn good at observing people. So in just a few hours I _see_ the way Eren disregards everything. And like everyone else, I don't care. But, I still slightly wonder. If there's anything left inside that comatic shell. If there's anything left to validate that _yes_, he _is _alive. So instead of letting him let go, I grip his consciousness and force him to regard _me_.

It's a test.

And yes, he is alive.

It's there, hidden somewhere deep inside that surrendered body. It hasn't been extinguished yet.

And that's how I know, that he isn't broken. Damaged heavily, yes. But he isn't broken and he doesn't need to be fixed.

Whatever.

It's 8:05 so I head down to the common room. When you're not in therapy, you can either spend your time here or back in your own room. (Stress on 'own'. No bed-hopping in the middle of the night. They have cameras. They are watching).

I don't like socializing. It's not _fun_ or _entertaining_ to me. It's only when I actually _like_ someone that I enjoy and crave their company. Or, vice versa.

So, I dislike socializing. But that doesn't mean I don't like to talk. Hell yes, I love to talk. Ask Erwin or even _Hanji_ if it comes right down to it. Sit me down and if you catch my interest, I'll burn _rubber_ with my words.

I'm pretty sure part of the reason why Erwin and Hanji entertain my talkativeness is because of why I'm stuck in this ward. And yeah, it does piss me off. But I let it go because they're also my friends and if anything, they don't talk to me out of pity. They put up with my shit, and even if I don't tell them (though it's pretty obvious these bastards know, based off of how they routinely try to elicitate public affection from me) I'm very thankful for them.

There are very few important people in my life. That's the way I want it.

I'd probably be a dried out, dead sort of thing if it weren't for Isabel and Farlan. They fill out the gaps and keep me from going insane.

I'm crazy anyways, but I'm not nuthouse crazy. Yet.

So I waste twenty minutes in the common room, seeing how long I can glare at Bertolt before he sweats his way out of the room (I don't know why, but there's something about that guy that pisses me off. Erwin tells me it's because I'm half the guy's size but Erwin's a dickhead, so).

Then it's dinner so we all head to the mess hall and well, eat. The younger brats make a loud fuss, as usual. I ignore them, and chew my nearly stale bread. Sometimes, the nurses of this ward like to join us for meals. Today, Petra and Oluo (Oluo probably followed Petra here) walk over and sit down at my table (of course).

Petra's sort of fond of me, because she doesn't know _about_ me and I seem pretty damn sane as compared to the others. In her eyes, I'm a good person. I feel kind of bad for her though, because she's kind enough to like me and I don't really swing for her team.

But she's alright, and I can stand her. However, I don't talk to them. They chit and chat playfully and from time to time Petra throws me these hopeful glances, like I suddenly might decide to join their conversation. Instead I silently eat my dumb bread, not even bothering to look at them. After I'm done, I put away my tray and wash my hands for five entire minutes. Fingers clean and tingling, I make my way back to my room.

The kid hadn't come out for dinner, it turns out. When I walk over to his bed to inspect him I see that he's fallen asleep; his body stretched out haphazardly along the bed. He looks more peaceful… kind of adorable, actually. A hand smushed against the side of his face, and mouth slightly open as he breathes softly. I resist this strange urge to brush along his cheek with the back of my hand.

I don't have a reason to do that.

Night always makes me a sentimental fool. That's probably why I feel kinda sad when I look down on Eren. What happened to this kid, to nearly kill him like this? The world's such a cruel place. Sometimes it steals your life and other times it breaks you. I sigh, before walking over to my bed. The night has begun.

At first, I take out the wood block again and continue carving it. I make decent progress, before I feel like stopping. After that, I refold my clothes and remake my bed before dusting off my side of the room. (There's barely anything to dust, I keep my room _clean_). I don't really feel like cleaning the bathroom, so instead I take out the book Hanji lent me yesterday and read it. And read it, and read it and after a while it's 2 a.m. the book's long gone and I'm staring blankly at the wall across from me. My back's against the wall and goddammit it pissed me off when Eren fucked the ceiling with his eyes but now I'm doing the same thing.

That's such a mean way to put it though, _fucked the ceiling with his eyes_ the kid's probably a virgin.

Oh my god, see? I become a sentimental fool at night. A mean way to put it? No, fuck you I'll say what I want. Wait, I can't fuck myself…no wait, I can. In fact, it'd be funny to watch Eren wake up me to jerking myself off. But nah, I'm not that mean. Or at least, not right now.

Isabel and Farlan don't visit me today. For some reason I feel like it's because of Eren's presence. I don't really care though because I'm at that point where I don't think my mouth is capable of forming words, and my thoughts are blurred into one another. It feels like I've been _paused_ or something. I see things and hear things, but it doesn't affect me because I'm in this surreal sense of _not existing_ in the surrounding environment. I exist in the small space I occupy and nowhere else. Disjointed, I'm so disjointed…

And cold. Or, I dunno, I don't have warmth in me. But, it's not like, painful or anything.

**This unhealthy ice**

I can't sleep. I never have been able to. Insomnia, to give it a term. Every night I stay up like this, slowly receding into myself until I finally pass out from exhaustion. Or maybe I become so unconscious of my surroundings that I eventually pass the borderline of human awareness. Oh fuck it, fuck it, fuck it whatever. I just, haven't been able to sleep. And today's no exception. And I _know_ that tomorrow morning when I wake up, it's going to be rabid hell because I'd have slept like 5 hours max. I'm a dangerous creature in the mornings.

Whatever. I'm used to it.

**Echoes.**

I watch the silence in the room and Eren wakes up a few times. Not abrasive, heavy waking up but just restful fluttering of his eyelids that he's not going to remember tomorrow. The wall becomes increasingly blurry until I can't distinguish it from my thoughts and then I finally pass out.


	4. Chapter 4: A Long Shower

With a sigh, Armin leaned back onto his chair and finally, _finally _relaxed his hand into his pants. College was no joke- for nearly three months now he'd been face full with pre-med course work and it wasn't getting any easier. It's not like Armin was sex-crazed or anything; he just knew how much masturbation helped to wind things down. And after the gruelling week he'd had? There was nothing he needed more. With a nice jazz tune playing softly in the background, Armin was at rest. That was, until his phone rang, effectively interrupting the peace. _It hasn't even been two minutes_. Armin grumbled to himself, before reaching for the offensive device. _I'll make it quick. _Not bothering to check caller ID, he accepted the call.

"Armin speaking. Yes?"

"Armin? It's Mikasa." Mikasa rarely called him, preferring to rely on email. She wouldn't have called without a valid reason. "Is there music playing? I'm sorry, are you busy? I have to talk to you about something important. It has to do with Eren." Armin at once felt his mood drop. (So did something else, but that's not important). At once he switched off the stereo and focused on the phone call.

"No, that was nothing. Continue, continue please." Worry buzzed in his stomach, and it reflected in his voice. Things had been a bit off with Eren when Armin had left but Mikasa had assured him that she was taking care of it. How well, he couldn't say but based off of how Eren was yet to contact him even once (besides the single phone call they'd had after Armin had reached) it was clear to him that things weren't good. They weren't good at all. He'd wanted to believe Mikasa; trust her and with the heavy workload he suddenly had gotten, he wasn't able to do anything else. _I'll be back for semester holidays and then Mikasa and I can help Eren deal with whatever it is he's going through_.

"Armin, Eren's been admitted into the hospital." Mikasa sounded bleak.

_" _What?! What happened? What for? You two didn't get into an accident, did you?!"

"Attempted suicide…" her voice was so soft Armin almost didn't hear her.

_It had been two months and twenty-three days. _

"Armin, Eren has just been a bit down this week. You know how he's incompetent with technology so don't worry, he'll talk to you soon."

"Armin, Eren seems to be going through this anti-social phase. Do not worry; it is something that will pass."

"Armin, I am working on it. It has just been difficult to talk to him. Things will get better once school starts again for us."

"Armin things are…okay here. Please come to visit as soon as you can."

"I can handle it, Armin."

"Armin, are you there? Hello?"

"Mikasa how could you? If it was that bad, why didn't you tell me? Attempted suicide! Are you insane? How, how could you? It's been two months and twenty-three days, this is bad! What are we going to do? Why didn't you tell me? Mikasa!" he exclaimed. "Explain. Explain, now." Armin harshly spoke.

"Armin, I am so sorry…I did not know…I-"

Guilt settled in his stomach; her sibling had just attempted _suicide_ and he was berating her about it not even a day after? Mikasa had always been strong, but she had no one. No one other than him, and Eren. And now even Eren was...

"No, it's okay, I'm sorry for being so rude, and blowing up at you. Forget that, forget everything. I'm coming; I'm coming right now, as soon as I can get a flight ticket. We'll talk about this when I reach. How is he? How is Eren?" Armin reached for his laptop, and flicked it open. Wasting no time, he started looking through the website of the local airline,

"Eren is physically fine. After being treated for blood loss and kept in a hospital room for two days, he was shifted to the psych ward. I felt it was best. Armin you don't have to-" once again Armin cut her off.

"Mikasa there is no way in hell that I'm not going to come. Nothing you can say will stop me from catching the next flight back home. So don't even bother." He paused, to screenshot his ticket details now being displayed on his laptop's screen. "Oh, and another thing? Don't ever keep things like this from me again. I'm smart enough to understand things past a certain point, but there's only so much I can assume."

* * *

><p>Eren<p>

Last night I had dreamed about my mom. Her warm hands, her sweet-smelling hair, the way she would tug lightly on my ears; claiming they turned red when I lied. To others, she would seem a normal mother who had died a normal death. It happened often enough. But to me? Anything but. Because she was _my _mother, the one who had raised me and loved me. The only mother I had had- the only mother I had needed.

Previously, my life had been divided into two distinct parts- when mom had been alive, and after mom had died. (There was a brief hell in between, but I won't go into that). That's just the way things were. I regretted a lot of things but she had left this world before her brown hair could turn to gray. Before, whenever I thought of mom, I felt this stabbing pain in my chest (sort of like recalling a painful memory, but only incomparably worse.) because I associated any and every thought of her with her death. She was dead, she was dead, she was dead, she had _died._

After her death, I had refused to refer to her in the past tense.

_'My mom _is_ a great person!'_

_'My mom _thinks_ Mikasa is stronger than me.'_

_'My mom _likes_ to tease me about my temper.'_

Armin, of course, had called me aside and tried to explain how referring to her in the present tense wasn't very respectful towards her. She had lived and passed on and what was important now was honouring what she had lived for and left behind. _'Accepting her death is very important, Eren.' _Armin had told me.

We were nine at the time.

Of course, being the angry little kid I was, I had just pushed him away and denied everything.

I had never been good with words so could I to explain to Armin that no, what I really meant was that I didn't want to give in and let her life fade away? That I wanted to live and live with her life never forgotten; a bright sun never leaving my eyesight. I couldn't, and I can't explain it now either. I just... wanted to carry my mom's living memory along with me, wherever I went.

_There was a difference,_ Armin said, between 'is' and 'was'. I tried to argue back; saying that my mother may have died, but she still lived in _my _words and _my _actions. However, the words came out all wrong and in the end I just ended up shoving him and finally being forced to apologize by Mikasa.

I don't know... I just really love her, my mom.

I used to feel that stabbing pain whenever I thought of her, but now I just felt painful echoes in this numbness.

Some time after I had woken up, a nurse came to get me.

"Eren, Eren Yeager right?" he asked, walking to my bedside. "Breakfast passed an hour ago; you've missed it. Last night you didn't go for dinner either, so I suggest you do eat lunch today because if you don't, there's a high chance that you'll be nurse-fed from here on out." He didn't say the words rudely. "Remember me? I came to give you your medicine last night. Erd Jinn?" When I just blinked back at him in response, he sighed before grabbing my shoulder and pulling me up. "You have group therapy now and it's not something you can miss. Come on, have you brushed your teeth?"

But I hadn't so he waited while I did. Before we left the room I looked over at Levi's bed, a bundle of blankets tightly wrapped around a small figure; only the top of a head peaking through. My mouth opened to ask, but before I could say anything Erd beat me to it.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about him if I were you. Missing breakfast isn't uncommon for him." After a brief pause Erd added, "Just don't... ever wake him up. Other than that, it's fine."

I closed my mouth and nodded, and without another word he led me out of the room. We walked some before entering a room. Barely seconds later, there was a pair of eyes _right_ in front of me, intently looking into mine. If I moved even a centimetre closer, I'd end up knocking into their glasses.

"So you're Eren! Hi, call me Hanji! I'm in charge of group therapy!" Hanji leaned in even closer, to stage whisper in my ear, "I'm not _really _in charge of group therapy, you see. Gunther- the guy who's _really _in charge of group therapy- had to go out of town for his sister's wedding or something. Took the month off. I majored in criminal psychology, actually, But that's okay! It can't be that much different, right? Don't worry, I'm qualified!" Hanji took a step back, glancing to the side. "I couldn't pass up on the chance to _observe..._" A look back and a grin lit up Hanji's face. "Anyhoosies since I'm sort of gender fluid, when referring to me, use she/ her or they /their pronouns. Either one is okay!" Not waiting for me to reply, they grabbed my arm and dragged me along with them towards the centre the room. I looked back at Erd, who only let out a laugh and shot me a thumbs-up sign before leaving the room.

"Let's introduce you to everyone!" they exclaimed. I don't even know if they heard my "Okay..." in response to that. "Everyone" probably referred to the group of people behind her, sitting in a circle and quietly talking to one another. "Everyone! Guys! We have someone new joining us today!" The room at once became quiet. Okay Eren, go on and introduce yourself." Hanji gave me a little push and I looked up and at the crowd of people.

"I'm Eren... Eren Yeager." I said before looking away. The room remained silent.

Unfazed, Hanji continued with full enthusiasm. "Alrighty then! Take a seat and we'll start!" I complied, walking over and sitting down in an empty space between two people. "Since you're new and unfamiliar with the group, Eren, let's do the getting-to-know-each other exercise. Everyone will recite their name followed by things they like, or a few of their interests. I'll start- we'll go counter-clockwise!

Hanji gave a huge grin. "My name is Hanji, as you all know. It's actually my last name, but I prefer being called it over my first name. I like experiments, science, and the human mind. It's _so _interesting, the way the human mind works! Did you guys know that the human brain is regarded as the fattest organ in the bo-"

The boy sitting to the left of them cut them off with an apologetic smile. "Uhm, Hanji? I think that's enough." The boy had said it so kindly that it hadn't seemed rude at all.

"Marco, you're right, sorry I got carried away." Hanji giggled. "Okay, now your turn!"

Marco gave a smile before starting. "As most of you already know, my name's Marco Bott and I'm actually kind of Hanji's assistant. I'm being trained by them in psychology and therapy as a course for college. I'm really happy to be here with you guys today!"

For me, after that, everything just faded into background noise. I didn't focus on any words and instead just blinked in harmony at the tiled floor; my arms hugging my knees to my chest.

_"I like spending time with my friends and I like making people feel better- it makes me happy."_

_ "I'm, I'm Bertolt . I... well, I li..-"_

_ "I'm Reiner but you guys already know that. I like big butts and I cannot lie!"_

_ "Krista doesn't have a big butt."_

_ "Shut _up_, Jean!"_

_ "Yeah, Jean, t-that's not very nice..."_

_ "You guys let's calm down and move on! Ha, ha... okay. Annie?"_

_ "Annie Leonhardt. I like hand to hand combat."_

_ "I'm Krista Lenz and I like helping people!"_

_ "Call me Sasha! My last name's Blouse. I like foo-"_

_ "Yes we already know all too well that you like food. My name's Jean Kirst-hey! Hey you, whatshisname!"_ Suddenly someone was waving their hand up and down in front of my face.

I blinked and went "Huh...yeah?"

"You asshole! You're not even paying attention!"

"...?"

"What the hell! I'm here, talking about myself and you're not even listening!"

"Jean! Chill man."

"Oh _come on_, Reiner. He hasn't been listening the entire time!"

"Jean..." was all it took from Marco and the guy pulled back with a scornful "Fine."

"Eren, why don't you tell us about yourself? It's your turn." Marco softly suggested.

"Okay. My name is Eren Yeager. I, I like... my mom."

"Moms are always the best!" Hanji agreed. Then they started asking questions to everyone in the group and I wasn't given any individual attention so once again it all just faded away. After some time I was vaguely aware of Marco taking me to the cafeteria. There, I sat down and ate lunch. He had made me sit with the rest of the psych ward patients. No one talked to me and I don't really think they noticed me either. After I had finished eating, Marco came up to me.

"Hey Eren, since you've finished eating you're free to do what you'd like until it's time for your personal therapy sessions. You'll be called when it is, but in the meanwhile you can hang out at the common room or in your own room. The common room has a couple of board games, a tv, and even a piano. This hospital actually is a pretty decent establishment hence it's much better than it sounds. So, whadya say? Would you like to join us and get to know your ward-mates better? Most of them usually head down there around this time."

"Oh, okay. Thanks, but I'm going to go back to my room..."

"Sure, no problem! But if you change your mind, you know where we are!" I turned away to go back down the hallway, but Marco tapped me on the shoulder. I turned back around, and he said, "Eren, if there's anything you ever need, don't hesitate to ask! We're here to help you, and I'm glad you're here, alright?" Marco smiled, and I noticed he had freckles.

"Thanks...Marco."

And then I went back to my room.

Levi's bed was empty when I walked in; the bed made, and the sheets folded into a neat pile on top. I heard the water running in the bathroom, so he had most likely gone to take a shower. I was sitting on my bed when he came out; hair wet and already dressed. He didn't say anything to me, he didn't even spare me a glance as he took out a towel from the cabinet behind him and began drying his hair.

"Lunch…lunch is over already." I told him.

Levi suddenly turned and looked at me for a split second with an irritated expression before his features smoothed out and he looked away, once again disinterested.

"Yeah, I know." He ignored me for a while and began to fold his clothes. When he was finished, he got up and headed towards the door but stopped after passing me, as if he had suddenly remembered or realized something. "Did you shower today?" he asked, his face stuck in a grimace.

"No..." I answered and it seemed to have been the wrong answer because Levi's scowl deepened and he looked- he looked almost _angry_. Moments later he stood in front of me; his head almost a foot shorter than mine. He suddenly grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me down to his height.

"Did I not make myself clear? _As long as you exist in this room, _you are going to be fucking clean. Fucking. CLEAN. That includes showering every day. I don't care if we run out of water or if it's _scientifically proven _that your shit is cleaner than everyone else's; you're going to shower everyday or I'm kicking you out of this room and I don't give a rat's ass about what Erwin says."

Levi didn't even raise his voice. He didn't need to. Without waiting for a reply, he let go of my shirt and briskly walked out of the room without even a glance back.

And I just went to the bathroom, to take a _really_ long shower.

_[Eren was alive.]_

_ [Eren is alive?]_


	5. Chapter 5: Cold Feet

"You haven't gone to see him even _once_ since he was admitted?!" Armin's words resounded throughout the nearly empty house.

"No Armin, I'm sorry, I don't know what, I don't know, I-I just c-" Mikasa sat, hunched on the Yeager's couch, her face buried in her hands. A thought struck Armin.

"Mikasa, please tell me that you were at least _there_ when he woke up. " He stopped his pacing and turned to her; eyes pleading for things that had already passed.

Mikasa remained silent.

"I'm, I'm not going to say anything. Except for that you're coming with me _right now_ to see him. _Right now._" Though she hadn't really reacted to anything he had said before this with more than mumbled resignation, this, it was almost like she had been slapped.

"No. Armin, NO. I'm not going in there; I'm not going to see him no matter what you say!" Her head whipped up and Armin was startled to see _tears_ forming in her eyes for _this._

Armin had arrived back home yesterday night, two days after Mikasa's phone call and a week since Eren's admittance into the hospital. His initial flight had been delayed, and following that there had been a heavy thunderstorm that had furthered the delay. Finally, he ended up switching over to an entirely different plane the next morning and had made it here by nightfall. It wasn't exactly easy on his savings, but since he was attending college on a full scholarship, it was manageable. '_Family emergency'_ was what he had told the college on his sudden departure.

And here he was now, with Mikasa who was refusing to see her own brother.

"What the hell, Mikasa! Eren, it's _Eren_ why can't you go see him, he's your BROTHER. You and I are the only ones who can." _The only ones who will. _Armin fought to keep his words from becoming too harsh, but his patience was wearing thin. He wanted to make sense of what was happening- that was who he was, but right then, his own feelings were making it hard to think. At times like these, actions with minimal thought were required. Right now, he had to see Eren- all of the necessary and critical thinking was to be done later.

"Armin do you know what it's been like? Eren hasn't even_ looked_ at me for months. He wouldn't do anything. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. He wouldn't talk to me." Mikasa went on, her words becoming increasingly fast as emotion overwhelmed her. "I tried, I tried _so hard_ but it never worked, he wouldn't let me help him. I didn't know how to… what was I supposed to… I tried, I tried, but it wasn't working, and what I found in his close-" she stopped, a choked sob replacing her words, as tears streamed down her cheeks. "It's not Eren in there, it's not Eren…"

"Mikasa, I…" Armin walked over and sat down next to her, wrapping his arms around her as she turned, and cried into his shoulder wordlessly.

They sat like that for a while, until Mikasa had cried herself out. And in that time, Armin came to understand some of the things that she would never say. But for a full understanding, he had to go see Eren. He needed to go see Eren, regardless.

"I'm going to go see him now." Armin told her, after all of her tears had ceased. She leaned away and back into the couch, while he withdrew his arms. "You don't have to come." He added softly, as he got up and made his way to the door. Mikasa sighed, relieved. Armin glanced back, giving her a small smile before he walked out.

You don't have to come, _this time._ It was left unsaid, but known between the two.

He took Eren's car. _No one's going to be driving it anytime soon, anyways. _Armin thought bitterly. A beat up old Honda Civic, which still smelled of French fries and cigarettes. Eren didn't smoke, but the car's previous owner had.

It was covered in scratches and dents, all from Eren's brash driving. Armin lightly traced a rather deep dent in the passenger side's door, a smile gracing his lips as he remembered how the dent had found place there.

**Regional Judo Tournament 2:30 P.M.**

** 1/2 Trost Avenue, 20847**

Armin glanced up from the address card that Mikasa had given them. "Eren, it's 2:15 I don't think we're going to make it in time, let's just call Mikasa and tell her we'll be late." He settled back into his seat, admitting defeat when he saw it. Armin was a practical person; he accepted what he saw and didn't challenge fate.

_Eren_, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. He fought against anything and everything that he couldn't accept and never stopped fighting. It was nice and all, but it got him into trouble more often than not.

"We'll make it, don't call her!" Eren stepped on the accelerator, and the car lurched forward at a higher speed.

"We're not even halfway there yet, it's not possible." Armin shook his head. "We should have left at 1:30, not 1:50! Who asked you to brush your hair for twenty minutes?!" He ran his hand through Eren's suspiciously _still_ messy hair. "It doesn't even _remotely _look like you've brushed it. What were you even doing?"

Eren gritted his teeth. "I couldn't find the brush… I was still looking for it." He grumbled. "And it _is _possible! It's not possible unless and until we try." An even _more _determined expression overtook his face (if that was even possible; Armin couldn't even tell at this point-that boy _always_ looked angry and determined. Must've been the eyebrows.) and down his foot went on the accelerator. The car shot forward, and so did Armin's heartbeat rate.

"Eren, you can't speed! That's illegal!" he very nearly shouted.

"It's okay! Just don't tell Mikasa." was Eren's rather simple solution.

"IT'S NOT MIKASA I'M WORRIED ABOUT, IT'S THE POLICE!" this, Armin actually shouted. (Which was surprising as Eren was the one who usually shouted.)

"IT'S COMPLETELY FINE, I CAN HANDLE THIS!" Eren shouted back. (Ahh, there we go.) "At this rate, we'll never make it…" he continued thoughtfully, as if deciding on something. His gaze steeled over, and with no warning, he almost_ violently_ turned the steering wheel to the left. The car followed, which would have been completely fine, if he hadn't been cutting straight through an intersection with cars crossing the street on either side.

Armin's heart nearly jumped out of the window and swam halfway to Germany. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" His voice skipped octaves.

"MAKING IT ON TIME!" and drive, did Eren through the streets with a sudden talent never before seen. That is, until he hit a passing by vehicle.

"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, ASSHOLE!" the victim yelled out of his window. "I'LL FUCKING FIND YOU IF THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH MY CAR!"

"SIE SIND DAS ESSEN UND WIR SIND DIE JÄGER, MOTHERFUCKER!" Eren belted in response, swerving to the right. When Armin just looked at him, Eren explained, "It's German."

Armin seemed to struggle with words for a few moments. "I _KNOW_ THAT, WHAT THE HELL EREN, WHAT IS EVEN-" Finally, the blonde haired boy seemed to give up on speaking, resigning himself to shaking his head, and covering his eyes with his hands.

A few minutes later, the car thudded to a secure stop, and Armin risked peeking through the gap between two of his fingers. "Are we there yet?" he asked, tentatively.

"Yep. And check your watch, what time is it?" Armin could practically _feel_ the smugness radiating from every inch of Eren even before he answered.

"2:29…"

As the memory renewed itself in his mind, Armin didn't really know what to feel.

On one hand, he felt _hope_ for this was Eren, and how bad could it really have gotten? Grinning, ardent Eren who never failed to stand up for what he believed in. He wouldn't have hurt Mikasa in such a way.

Except that, he had.

Thus, Armin also felt fear. Fear that Eren really was as broken as Mikasa had portrayed him. Fear that he would walk into that hospital and find his best friend a complete and utter stranger; lost to lesser known things. Fear that if Eren really _was _broken, then what was Armin going to do about it? What _could _he do about it?

Which led to the guilt. He had left Mikasa and Eren behind; he hadn't been there for _either _of them. College was a fucking pathetic excuse for not being there for your best friends when they needed you most. Why hadn't he paid more attention? Why couldn't he have visited sooner? Maybe then Eren wouldn't have _tried to kill himself_.

Armin couldn't forget Mikasa either. _It's because of me, _he thought guiltily. _I left her all alone_. When she had cried her heart out, he had finally understood her refusal to visit Eren.

Mikasa was running scared from something she didn't understand. She had been burnt, trying to help Eren, but not knowing _how_ to do so. How do you save someone from something you don't understand at all? Neither he nor Mikasa could understand what Eren was going through. Even then, Mikasa had tried to, but when nothing had gotten through to him, she settled for distancing herself from the issue. Put the ugly thing away, deep inside a box where no one will look, and eventually everyone will forget about it, right? You can unceremoniously move on with your life, and let it fade away into repressed memories.

Except no, not in this case, because apparently the ugly thing lived inside of Eren And they couldn't forget about Eren.

Armin didn't know yet, though, about Eren. And he wouldn't be able to understand _anything_, until he saw Eren with his very own eyes.

He drove and drove; thoughts filling his head as he made his way to the hospital.

_The previous day_

** _"This unhealthy ice_ **

_ **Echoes."**_

**Levi**

It's been a week since the brat invaded my personal space. But, to be honest, he hasn't really done much. All he ever does is sleep, leave the room for meals, or stare silently at some random ass thing all day.

Then again, I barely see him. I mean, I wake up sometime after lunch every day and by the time I come back to my room, it's like 8, and the kid gets knocked out at around 10. That's two hours of both of us being conscious in the same room.

And when I say he gets 'knocked out' I literally mean he gets knocked out. It's why he was able to sleep so peacefully that first night. I realized it two days ago, when I made it back to the room a little earlier than usual.

It turns out; he's been eating dinner in the room. (Which is why I never see him in the cafeteria.) A nurse comes by to deliver his food, and leaves behind two white pills for him to take before bed. And the dumbass just takes them, unquestioningly.

They tried to prescribe sleeping pills for me as well, at first. It was half a year, before they realized that I'd been stuffing the pills into a plastic bag I'd managed to snatch from one of the nurse's rooms.

I walked in on Hanji scavenging my room, odd objects lain in odder places. I was fucking pissed, royally _infuriated_ until she held up the plastic bag, nearly full to the brim with those stupid white pills. There were a well over _two hundred_ in there. My anger lost its reason and I didn't say anything.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" she asked, for once entirely serious.

"No." I answered, but she didn't completely believe me. I could see it in the way her eyes glanced away before I could say anything more to explain myself.

I wouldn't have said anything more, anyways.

Erwin had been there too, and he'd just looked at me with a sort of disappointment- whether it was for me or him, I don't know.

It's this loathsome memory that I remember, as I wake up. My stomach grumbles, and I check the clock which informs me that it's well past 2 PM. This is later than I usually wake up at.

Señor comatose is draped across his bed. Asleep or awake, I don't know. I usually see him for a few minutes before I leave the room for the day.

I get up, and make the bed. The sheets are white, which I like and I don't like. I like them because since they're white, I can tell if it gets dirty or stained and needs to be washed. I don't like them because it's also practically _begging _to get dirty. I have this irrational fear always tugging at the back of my mind when I see it, _it's going to get dirty it's going to get dirty it's going to get dirty._

I move on from folding it, and go to take a shower. The brat's been taking a shower everyday too, now. I know this because the common soap dispenser has less soap every time I use it.

I always feel best, after taking a shower. I listen to the water drain, and feel clean again. My teeth are brushed and I take a shit before all of this.

Once my clothes are on, and my hair has been partially dried, I leave the room to fill my stomach. I feel eyes follow me as I walk out the door. I shut the door in their gaze.

After lunch, all that's left in the cafeteria is salad and shit food. I eat the shit food, because it's cooked in a utensil, and not touched with the cafeteria worker's hands, like the salad is.

It tastes like shit.

I finish eating and _oh joy_ move on to my "private therapy". It lasts for two fucking hours and consists of a lady in a white coat asking me questions like _How do you feel? _And _What did you do today? _And _It says here in your file that you've killed, would you like to talk about that?_

The first question she asks, after I sit down in the chair opposite from her, is "How has your day been?"

"Fucking _fantastic_." I let her know.

"What did you do today?" She continues, unfazed.

"I woke up, took a shit, and ate a shit."

"That's,... interesting. Levi, I hear you have a new roommate, how come you haven't told me about him?"

"He tried to kill himself." My tone, my gaze, my body language all tell her just how much of a fuck I don't give about this conversation. I bring my hand up, and begin to observe my nails, picking at unexisting dirt.

"Okay. What is he like?" she's trying to pretend like I'm not being as rude as I am. But I am.

"Dead." I tell her, honestly.

Our entire exchange goes on like this, as it has for the past few years. The session ends, and I walk out of the room no less insane than I was when I entered.

My legal responsibilities over (or most of them, anyways), I stroll into Erwin's office, scaring the two interns who were waiting outside.

"Should we knock? Or should we just come back later..." The shorter one (who is still taller than me, fuck) asks the girl next to her.

"We need to get our log sheets back by today! Or else Dr. Rico is going to _screw _us." She responds.

I walk right past them and into Erwin's office, effectively ending their conversation and making them both flinch when the door slams behind me.

"Levi, you're not supposed to be here." is Erwin's greeting, as he shakes his head.

"When has it stopped me before?" I easily retort as I move to sit on his desk, and start playing with the dumb Styrofoam apple he keeps on it.

"That's true." He wryly admits, before continuing with whatever paperwork he had been doing before I'd interrupted. "But really, you should knock before you enter. I could have been meeting with the board director, for all you knew."

"Or banging one of your interns." I sniff the fake apple. It smells like plastic and wax.

Erwin frowns. "You watch too much daytime TV." He deducts.

"Blame Hanji." I drawl. "Speaking of which, where is that freak?"

"You raaaanggg?" A voice suddenly screeches as the door bursts open and out comes Hanji herself. Erwin and I don't even spare her a glance. We should probably be shocked, or whatever, but it's happened too many times before for it to be a coincidence. That lady's bugged us, or at the very least, has our social security numbers.

"Aww Levi, I knew you'd miss me!" She joins me on Erwin's absurdly large table (why the hell do doctors have such huge tables?) and around me do her arms go. I let it happen.

"Shut up, shit-for-brains. There's_ nothing_ to do, so I thought I could harass you to waste time." I look up to catch the two of them sharing a knowing smile. "I hate both of you." A heavy glare is levied at them.

"Yet, you don't leave." Erwin shoots me an irritating smile, which Hanji compliments with her noisy cackle.

I roll my eyes and ignore the two of them.

"By the way, Wig-win, there're two cuties scared stiff outside your office. They must've encountered ol' Levy." Hanji's arm is still loosely around me and the other reaches forward slowly, to sift through the mess of documents scattered neatly on top of the desk.

"Levi, you don't really need to do that," he says to me, before grabbing Hanji's wandering arm. "And Hanji, you don't really need to do that, either." His grin takes the bite out of his words, though, and she responds with her own. This is a well known game the two play.

The two begin to chat about unimportant things and I aimlessly wander around his room. My hands find a couple of sheets and I open the door to get rid of them.

The two girls are still there, and look like they're ready to _bolt_.

"Here." I glare at them, before the shorter one grabs the files out of my hand.

I turn around and shut the door in their face, but I hear one of them squeak, "Hey, it's our log sheets!" before the door closes completely.

The rest of the day goes uneventfully, and I hang around Hanji and harass her as promised. But, soon her hours are over and she leaves alongside Erwin, both of them going back to their homes.

I wander around the hospital without reason, before finally ending up back at my room after dinner. Not even a full minute passes before a nurse follows me into the room, apologizing for running late, as they hand over a tray of food to Eren and leave the room just as quickly.

For his part, the kid doesn't really seem to care. (As expected.) He just blindly eats his food, not bothering to taste it.

Meanwhile, I've ended up on my smooth bed, staring off into space. Not exactly observing him, but noticing his movements all the same along with everything else in these four walls.

After he's done, he holds up the small disposable container which holds two bright white pills, and starts unscrewing it. And it's while he's doing that that I catch the flash of the pristine white bandages wrapped around his wrists.

_Clean _white _begging_ to get dirty but they had already gotten dirty, hadn't they? With his blood.

I watch as he empties the container into one hand, nearly dropping a pill in the process, and raises it to his mouth, ready to swallow.

_ It's going to get dirty it's going to get dirty it's going to get_

And suddenly I'm there, my hand grabbing the pristine white wrapped around his wrists. "They're sleeping pills."

It seems to shake him out of his reverie. His blinks twice before looking back at me, an already answered question leaving his lips. "They are?"

"They're what's knocking you out every night." I reply smoothly, letting go of his wrist and reclaiming my prior seat on the bed.

"Oh…"

"What the fuck did you think they were, dumbass? You just kept taking them, no questions asked." His gaze meets my glare.

"I didn't think-"

"Obviously not." I cut him off with. He doesn't make to say anything after that, and just stands there, pills still in his hand. I watch him struggle internally, over whether to swallow the prescribed sleep or not. His hand starts shaking slightly, before he walks over to the dustbin and unceremoniously dumps the pills into it.

I don't say anything after that, and I think back to how he described me. Since then, he's been a corpse and I can count the number of things he's said to me on one hand. Didn't say anything, didn't do anything.

So I'm sort of shocked when he opens his mouth a while later, the lights off and both of us on our respective beds, still awake.

"Thanks…" his words still drift, but they have meaning, this time.

"Don't mention it." I say roughly, uncomfortably. People thanking me always make me feel weird.

I don't expect him to say anything after that, but he does. "Do you get them too?"

"I used to." I answer.

"What happened?" He asks, and I'm vaguely amused. An actual conversation, is this the cold turkey speaking? Kid, you were on drugs a week.

But that same memory from today morning flashes in front of my eyes and I'm left to say, "Six months in they found out I wasn't taking them. Cut me off after that."

"Did you just throw away the sleeping pills?" Don't tell me this kid is a talkative insomniac. We've already got one in this room- shouldn't there be a legal limit or something?

"What is this, 20 questions?" I hiss back, but after a pause, I answer his question anyways. "I collected them."

His next question is highly predictable. "What for?"

At this, I don't know what to say, even though I knew he'd ask it. So, I tell him that.

"I don't know, kid."

Silence takes back over, and I feel it in the air. He doesn't sleep, and neither do I, but after about an hour or so the brat opens his mouth yet again.

"Why were you prescribed sleeping pills?" He gives a breathing space before proceeding with, "Why do you need sleeping pills?"

"I can't sleep." I answer almost immediately.

"Ever?"

"Ever." I confirm. I expect the brat to ask _why _I can't sleep, but instead I hear his bed creaking. I look to the side, and he's getting up and off of it. What is he doing?

He makes his way over to my bed, before moving the pile of unused blankets to the side. He doesn't ask for permission, just blinks at me a few times before climbing onto it, and sitting criss cross over my feet.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" More than anything, I'm bewildered.

"Sitting on your feet." He answers, shifting a bit so that he bears his own weight.

"I can see that. _Why?_" My perplexed tone isn't exactly friendly.

"Because. You can't sleep if your feet are cold. If your feet are warm, it's easier to sleep. So I'll keep them warm for you." He explains, as if it's simply that.

I honestly, honestly, honestly don't know what to say or do, my back against the wall, and feet loosely under him. So I just let him sit there, darkness and silence mixed together all around us.

I don't say anything more, and neither does he. Eventually, he falls asleep, tilting to the side until he hits the bed and is scrunched in between the wall and my knees. Even then, I don't do anything.

I'm not able to sleep, either. Instead, I sit, my head filling with thoughts that make no sense because this doesn't make any sense. I don't really know what to do.

**This unhealthy ice**

I'm not sure how much time passes before my back slumps back down onto the bed and my eyes start drifting shut.

_ **melts.** _

That night, I fall asleep.

And, my feet are warm.


	6. Chapter 6: Saccharine Ashes

_"Mikaaasaaa," Eren cajoled, slipping his fingers beneath her jacket, grinning as Mikasa squirmed. He expertly tickled her ribs, as she tried to form a barricade with her hands._

_ "Eren, stop it. Eren, sto-" she interrupted herself with a giggle, and batted his hands away._

_ "Mikasa, come on, smile. Smile for me." He went for her armpits this time, crouching on the Yeager's old couch; knees over Mikasa's to keep her from moving._

_ "No. Go away." But her voice was breathless and she was trying her hardest to keep her lips from turning up. _

_ "I can fart on you, if that's what it'll take!" At this, Mikasa lost her composure and Eren took advantage, tickling her nonstop as she burst into heavy laughter with her brother; both of their lungs working overtime as they struggled to regain their breath._

_ Finally, when Mikasa was nearly wheezing with laughter, Eren retreated, and leaned back into the couch, a huge grin taking up his face. "Eww, you dork!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. "What, are you in the fifth grade?" Her brother just smiled back, a seemingly amiable expression on his face. "What, why are you looking at me like that?" she asked._

_ Eren just reached over and ruffled her neat, black hair. "It doesn't hurt to smile every once in a while, sis." He paused. "It makes me happy when you smile."_

Because you don't do it that often.

_ Mikasa's expression softened. She scooted over until she could feel the warmth of his side against hers, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I don't give you enough credit for being a good brother." She said, tugging on her red scarf, a present Eren had given her long ago._

_ "Yeah…" He joked lightly, to which in response his sister rolled her eyes. Mikasa wasn't usually very vocal about her feelings; choosing instead to be stoic and refrained. But Eren didn't need her to be vocal, because he saw her love in the way she still held onto that red scarf, the way she protected Armin and him from anyone who dared to try and hurt them, the way she would sometimes let a faint smile grace her lips, eyes slanted affectionately in a "oh you dumb boy, what have you done this time?" expression whenever he ended up doing something utterly irrational and childish._

_ He didn't need Mikasa to tell him that she loved him. He already knew that. He however, always needed to tell her that he loved her. _

_Eren was odd that way, always needing to tell people how he felt. Sometimes it was sweet and endearing, like when Armin broke his foot, effectively missing a series of exams. Eren showed up every day, bringing him books to read so that he wouldn't get bored, company to keep him from feeling lonely, and a copy of that day's exam paper to solve, knowing that Armin would get tense with an exam unwritten._

_ "It's okay, Armin! Missing these exams are fine. You're in no state to come to school, and your health comes first. You can retake the exams later. I don't want anything to happen to you, we still have to explore the world after school, yeah?"_

_ "But what about you, Eren? You should be going straight home after school to study, instead of spending two to three hours here just to give me trivial things and keep me company. You don't need to come _every day_, at the very least. Your education is important as well!" Armin would good-naturedly quarrel back, blonde hair falling to either side of his face as he frowned in friendly concern._

_ "I wouldn't be able to sit still or study or do anything, knowing that you weren't comfortable and happy." Eren said back, bluntly._

_ Perhaps his blunt honesty would make him seem vulnerable and weak; yet instead it made its way through to people no matter how pertinacious they may be and was undeniable in nature. Yes, his obligation towards speaking his mind was indisputably sweet and endearing._

_ But, that was only when he was being sweet and endearing. Most of the time, that wasn't the case. Instead, his open mouthed candidness frequently offended people and had more often than not gotten him a fist to the face. _

* * *

><p>After making his way past multiple doors and talking to more hospital officials than necessary, (regarding meeting a psych ward patient on a non-visiting day), Armin finally sat in 's office.<p>

It was a large office, adequate for a doctor of such high ranking, and furnished tastefully. The massive three-part desk took up most of the room's space, on top of which an organized chaos of papers lay. A faux apple sat on the left corner, oddly placed upside down.

The doctor himself had a look of importance about him. Neatly combed blonde hair, and a toothpaste-ad smile, Dr. Smith had the looks of a 1920s movie star. Armin couldn't help but feel a bit like an incompetent blonde sitting in front of the man.

"I'm sorry for having you go through such an extended and tedious process, hospital regulations are especially strict when it comes to the psych ward." The doctor offered an apologetic smile as he shuffled the papers on his desk, looking for Eren's case file.

"It's completely understandable, not a problem at all." Armin glanced over at the wall, covered in 's medical achievements (of which there were many). "Please forgive me if I'm wrong, but are you not Eren's physical doctor? How is that you're in charge of his case as of now if he's currently checked in regarding his mental health?" His words were nothing but polite questioning; which was to be expected as he _was _a medical student himself, and a very smart child nonetheless.

"While it is true that I have no say regarding his stay in the psych ward nor am I qualified to give you a diagnosis or anything of the sort- for that you'll have to contact his psychiatrist- his initial admission was due to physical wounds from which he is still healing. I remain his case doctor, but any decisions I make respecting Eren are in tandem with his psychiatrist, so please do not worry." Somewhere in the middle of saying this, Dr. Smith managed to locate Eren's case file; a dull blue folder with the hospital's insignia inscribed in white ink on top, _Recon Corps. Hospital _proudly printed beneath it.

"Okay. Thank you." Impatient, and ready to move on to why he was there in the first place, Armin straightened his posture and waited for Dr. Smith to continue.

The doctor flipped through the rather thin folder, wearing simple reading glasses he had procured from one of his many drawers.

"Armin- that is your name right?" Armin nodded. "Okay, Armin, what is your relation with Eren?" the doctor asked, scanning a particular sheet which had Eren's admittance details on it.

Armin wasn't offended in the slightest- he was well aware of the fact that these were questions that the doctor was required to ask. "Friend." He answered, stiffly.

Friend didn't really cover it. Friend didn't really express the pain Armin was in now. Friend didn't explain why Armin was very, very scared to walk into that room.

"I'm sorry but it's been a week since his admission into the ward, and your name hasn't been registered under Eren's 'Friends' section… would you like me to call the family member registered with his case? Registering is always done under a state of heavy stress so it's very likely that your name could have slipped their mind. If they're okay with you visiting Eren, there's no problem at all."

Armin was silent for a few seconds.

"Please check under 'Family'."

His politeness was wearing down as every minute brought him closer to seeing Eren. He had to see him, he _wanted_ to, but at the same time he didn't want to. There was hope, so much hope, filling his chest but it was a painful kind of hope.

"Ah, your name is indeed registered under family. I wasn't aware… you two don't really look alike. However, neither did his sister for that matter." Dr. Smith mused, while scribbling things onto a form acquired from the folder.

'_Psych Ward Visitation Form' _Armin read upside down.

"We grew up together." This didn't really explain anything, but was satisfactory nonetheless. The young medical student hadn't made it this far to be stopped by legal ramifications. Legality did not define relationships.

Dr. Smith was too sharp to let it go unnoticed, Armin knew, but the doctor didn't push the matter any further; choosing insteadto let it pass

"I see. Okay, I see no problems. Just fill out this form, and you'll be ready to go." Dr. Smith looked up and handed over the said form, smiling good-naturedly.

"Thank you." Armin smiled back slightly, feeling a bit too heavy to offer anything more.

Pen in hand, he quickly filled out the form and passed it back to the doctor.

"The head of the Psych ward is currently Dr. Zoe. If you have any further concerns or doubts don't hesitate on contacting them! I know them personally and they would be more than happy to provide any possible assistance." Dr. Smith paused for a second, not hesitating, but allowing time to pass to give his next statement more meaning. "I hope everything turns out well, and wish you the best of luck."

Armin stood, and thanked the doctor once more before making his way out of the office.

As he walked down the hall, as he climbed the stairs, as he signed in at the Psych ward's individual reception, Armin's thoughts sped up and collided with his ever growing anxiety.

Every step brought him closer to Eren, to his guilt, to his worry. To his fear.

The boy deliberated for a few seconds, as whether to meet Dr. Zoe or to see Eren first. The thought of yet more polite conversation irked him greatly, hence he decided on the latter; choosing to deal with everything else later.

A friendly nurse at the reception had informed him that Eren was staying in Room 418.

"Normally, you'd be sent to the visiting room, but at the moment it's being used for something else. So, just for today, you'll get to go straight to his room." The nurse explained, a corded phone in the crook formed between her ear and according shoulder as she hurriedly typed unknown details onto the computer in front of her. Armin could hear a faint dialing tone being emitted by the phone. "However, I'm sorry to inform you that, as it's against ward policy for a visitor and patient to be entirely unsupervised, hence a nurse will have to be there with you two. The visiting room offers more privacy but like I said before, it's not available…" she trailed off, offering an apologetic smile

"Oh, that's okay; it's no problem at all!" Armin assured her, full of fake cheer. If somber worry had worn away at his politeness with Dr. Smith, his ever growing nervousness had revamped it and turned him into a jittery, smiling ball of nerves.

Fake was his cheer, and fake were his words because of course it was a problem. Armin did not want a trained professional stranger standing there, not judging yet judging at the same time. A stranger who did not know the situation and did not understand the situation and had no place being there. A stranger who would look at them and blame Armin (deservedly, he had to admit) because Eren was a patient in a psych ward and Armin was the one whole and healthy.

He suddenly desperately wished Mikasa was there; someone who knew and understood. Someone who knew Eren like these nurses and doctors did not and would not look at him like a friend does when your dog's been hit by a car.

Like people do when they hear someone close to you has been admitted into the hospital.

Except that had happened. Armin felt sick to his stomach.

"I was paged?" A voice broke Armin out of his reverie. A woman with strawberry blonde hair, and a kind smile walked towards the reception, black pager raised in hand.

"Oh, yes. This is Armin and he's here with special permission to visit Eren- Room 418. You're to provide supervision. Head on up to Eren's room; the visiting room's being used."

Upon hearing Eren's name, Armin couldn't help but notice how Petra's expression turned wary; the smile on her face tilting until it was closer to a grimace than a smile.

"Okay. Time limit?" she asked, fidgeting slightly as a more pronounced frown took over her features.

"Thirty minutes." The receptionist turned to Armin. "I'm really sorry sir, we can't offer you the entire hour as Eren might be having therapy sessions and these doctors are only available during certain hours…"

"Oh, no, it's completely fine!" Armin waved her off, even though he himself didn't know if it was.

He was handed a visitors pass on a lanyard to wear and then led deeper into the ward by Petra's sure yet reassuringly slow steps. They walked in silence, until Armin chose to break it; in dire need of a distraction.

He also sort of wanted to hear the insurance that nurses and doctors offered to relations of the admitted. Perhaps it was false, but ultimately it _was_ something, and certainly more than silence. Armin was too smart for any words of comfort that could be offered towards him, and he was well aware of that. But, he was human, and like everyone else he yearned for a slight squeeze of the arm, a slew of pleasant "it's alright, it's okay", a calm assurance that someone would be waiting for him afterward.

_My god, am I selfish_, he thought. A bitter laugh almost made its way past his lips- Eren was the one in the hospital, yet here he was, acting as if he was the one being admitted.

Distraction-he needed that distraction.

"I hope you'll excuse me for saying this, but you don't really seem to be…enjoying your occupation?" He slowed even more, the words hesitant in fear of being impolite. It came out sounding like a question, which it was, ultimately.

"What? No- I love my job!" Petra half-smiled, tinged with a hint of guilt. "I'm sorry, I probably seem very stiff don't I?"

"Oh, not at all! You just don't seem like the type to be so quiet." As an afterthought he tacked on, "I'm a medical student, and I'd like to understand all aspects of the job, occupational hazards as well."

The nurse in turn chuckled softly. "You're right. I'm just not…comfortable in this ward?" The two now stood a few feet away from an all-impending door to their right, the number 418 blazed proudly on the front. If the rather personal question offended her, she didn't let on.

Petra leaned back against the wall, and sighed. "That sounds very bad, doesn't it?"

Armin didn't answer, he just waited for the explanation he knew was coming.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the existence of this ward- mental health is very important and medication for mental health issues is indeed necessary. I mean, I'm not the kind of person to get scared off by things, okay? As a nurse who's frequently been in the OR, I've seen very, very scary things that didn't frighten or disgust me in the slightest.

"It's just, in the OR? You see what's wrong; it's right in front of you. And you know how to fix it. But here? It's not like that. The problems are deep in a place where you can't see them, and that leaves me feeling unsettled." She paused. "I'm so sorry; this probably isn't what you want to hear, is it? I'm not a ward- trained nurse so don't take my words to heart! This ward is one of the best in the state, and your friend is definitely going to get better. I'm just personally not good at handling such things."

Armin smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's alright. I appreciate your honesty, thank you for that." He turned and gestured at the door, "You can go on ahead, just give me a few minutes?"

"Sure! I'll go let Eren know that someone's here to see him. Come in at your own time!" She chirped, her wariness seemingly replaced with a sense of newfound boldness. Maybe Armin's curiosity had inspired a bout of self searching inside of her; strengthening her resolve to get over her fear when it came to the psych ward.

_It'll last a total of fifteen seconds_, Armin thought dryly as he watched her slip into the dark room.

He felt _himself_ slipping in the meanwhile, and with his back against the wall, he slid to the floor, arms wrapped around his knees, and head shoved in the crevice formed in between them.

_ Five minutes. I get five minutes._

Why, why did he feel like curling up into a ball and disappearing? This worry, this fear, this _guilt_.

For three minutes he let himself feel that.

But it was Eren, it was_ Eren, it was **Eren**. _

_ I'd do anything for him_, Armin realized. (He'd already known, but the thought comforted him greatly.)

I'd **never **give up on him.  
>I'd <strong>never <strong>stop trying.  
>I'd do <strong>anything<strong> for him.

And these words strengthened _his_ _own _resolve, as well as comforted him greatly more than anything else had. Because he knew these things for sure. This knowledge was all that he needed right now.

Armin stood up, visibly with better posture than before. He lightly smoothed his bangs, and tugged his jacket so that the wrinkles straightened out.

Letting out a final, shaky breath, he knocked on the door.

"Come in."

* * *

><p><em>On the morning of Eren's admittance into the hospital-<em>

Mikasa stood, in front of Eren's door, a sense of battered emotion filling her. The hospital staff had requested her to bring changes of clothes for her brother; along with anything else he might want (as long as it adhered to the ward's rules).

So here she was. Mikasa had thanked her lucky stars that she had turned 18 before Eren had, and hence had been legally allowed to register as his family member in control of his stay. _Father, our_ _father_, Mikasa thought bitterly.

It was something she didn't want to get into, but couldn't help but feel grateful that he was a very well known and prestigious doctor- which ensured that Eren was receiving the best of care possible, as well as the medical bills being cleared. Never mind that it'd been _months_ since they'd seen the father in question, which, alright, wasn't too unusual, but still led her to believe that maybe he had another family, or maybe he'd just simply _forgotten_ them.

With a tired sigh, she pushed into the room, which was startlingly unperturbed in the wake of all recent events.

She didn't know why she had expected it to look any different. This was probably how all people felt, upon entering the rooms of those who had suddenly gone through so much.

The air felt undisturbed and stagnant though it couldn't have been more than a day since anyone had entered it.

She passed the unmade bed, and tried not to think of the last time she'd been in here.

Pulling open the drawers of his dresser, she began to pick out underwear, shirts, and pants for him. Though she was sure that the ward's temperature would be properly regulated, as an afterthought, Mikasa packed a couple of pairs of socks- matched or unmatched, she did not check. She also absentmindedly packed Eren's keepsake necklace, something he used to wear every day, why hadn't he worn it yesterday?

Her eyebrows furrowed as she couldn't help but feel slight confusion as to why the dresser seemed to be lacking a bit. Where was that olive green t-shirt that Eren had loved and worn until it had faded into a dull vanished green? Where was his white button down, that stayed unfailingly wrinkled come every formal event? Where were his gray sweatpants, utterly normal and constant in his weekly attire?

But, it wasn't like a surplus of clothes were missing, just a select few- maybe he had gotten tired of them and thrown them out or donated them - so Mikasa shook off the feeling and moved on to check his cabinet for anything else he might need.

Her confusion settled as she realized inside sat the missing clothes, but only rose again when all of them were in discarded bundles; as if someone had roughly shoved them in with half a mind.

Something glittered as the light caught in, under the (now even more wrinkled) white shirt. She pushed it aside to reveal a small scattering of razor blades.

Why did he have rusted razor blades?

Wait… that wasn't just rust on the blade…

Still in the shocked state of mind of processing things, she turned to see that the white shirt wasn't entirely white, either.

None of the articles of clothing were clean; all of them were stained with specks of dull brown.

_Dried _brown, would be fresh red.

Tears blurring her eyes, Mikasa brought up her hand and bit on her knuckle to keep her strangled sobs from being heard.

* * *

><p>Petra had been the one to say "Come in." A small portion of Armin's brain processed this, while the majority focused on what was behind that door.<p>

He turned the doorknob, and suddenly Armin was in the room.

It was a rather simple layout; two beds opposite each other on either side of the rectangular room. A door was found at the back of the room (which Armin presumed led to the restroom) and a dresser sat next to each bed. A table that was set off to the side.

Petra stood to the left of the only occupied bed, a trying smile plastered on her face.

It took more than a little effort, Armin noticed, for her to reach out and lay an arm on Eren's shoulder. "Eren, look who's here to see you, it's your friend!"

He tried not to cringe at that; as if she was talking to someone of childish intellect. Which Eren, while certainly not the brightest, was most certainly not.

It gave such a scripted feel to everything as if this was a staged visit; making Armin in turn feel quite uneasy.

Eren turned to face him, and Armin's stray thoughts scattered.

His hair was a mess and not in the way it usually was.

Eren's hair was perpetually messy- no matter what or when. Random tufts would stick up all over the place, besides the few areas where he had very obviously dragged a brush through, moments before bounding out the door; rushing to not be even _later_.

But now, it was in a depressed state of bed hair- as if he didn't even have the energy to make the bed head more even sided. And, it seemed like he slept without moving much.

Armin suddenly wished he wasn't so adept in observing.

Eren was visibly thinner, and had lost sustainable weight since the last time Armin had seen him. His posture, however, remained aggressively poor as he sat hunched with his spine curved inwards.

Thick, dark circles rimmed his eyes but his eyes, his _eyes _were still the same; a vibrant indefinable color that stood out against the rest of the world.

Upon Petra's words, Eren's eyes flicked upward.

"…Eren, it's me; Armin! It's been so long since I last saw you!" At this, Armin really did _cringe_, and cursed himself for slipping into that very same plastic dialect that Petra had begun with.

For a split second, Armin thought he saw something flash in Eren's eyes, but then he blinked and when he opened his eyes again they were glazed over and cloudy.

He took a deep breath, walked over to Eren's bed, and sat down next to him; as he had done for so many years. Petra, for her part, drifted to an unseen corner of the room; trying to give the two as much privacy as possible that could be given in such a situation.

"Hey Eren, how's it been going?" he asked, softly.

Eren looked away, and sat without speaking for a few moments. "…Okay."

Not wanting to look at his wristwatch and give the wrong idea, Armin glanced over the walls, hoping to spot a wall clock. He was not left disappointed and found one on the wall to the left of the bathroom door.

Twenty-two minutes remained. Not a lot, and he had to make every minute count.

Armin reached over and gently pulled Eren's left arm into his hands, and turned it over, pushing the sleeves back.

Thick bandages encircled his arm, going back who knows how far.

"Why'd you do this, Eren?" Armin asked, quietly.

Eren looked down at the arm Armin was holding. "It doesn't matter." He said, his voice well below indoor voice level and in all honesty, that worried Armin more than anything else.

"Yes it does!" Armin's voice rose, slightly increasing in pitch as it did. "Of course it does! So please, Eren, tell me why you did this."

Eren just looked away, and repeated what he had said before. "It doesn't matter."

Armin wove his fingers through Eren's, cradling his hand in both of his own. He tried not to flinch when his hands made contact with Eren's- his hands were just so goddamn _cold_. "Eren, I _care_, of course it does matter."

Like always, an unnatural pause of silence passed before Eren spoke again.

"Then don't care."

"You _know_ that I can't do that." Armin's eyes never left his best friend. "Eren, it's okay, what you did. It did greatly upset Mi-me but I don't think any less of you or care any less about you. You still mean the world to me and I'm still going to be here no matter what. Of course, it did really hurt me but that's only because I care about you so much." He held on to the other boy's hand, making sure to be careful of the bandages.

"I…don't really care." The words left Eren's lips and stabbed Armin straight through the heart, but of course he kept going because that's what friends were for.

"Ere-," he cut himself off, trying to find the right words to say. Finally, he decided to be cautiously honest, because no one appreciated honesty more than Eren did. "That's okay too. I'll still be here. I'd never leave, no matter wha-"

This time, Eren cut him off, "You don't need me." he said, as if that could explain everything. As if that was all Armin needed to hear, and Armin was someone he could just disregard.

"Of course I do! I care about you Eren, I love you, you know tha-" Armin's voice broke near the end.

"_I _don't need you." Cold, unfeeling words that made Armin shrink away.

"Eren, please give me some leverage here, I'm trying my best-" he was looking up at Eren, eyes blue and pleading under his honey golden bangs.

Eren pulled his arm out of Armin's grasp. "Just stop. Just stop it." He wouldn't even look at Armin's face. "Leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you, and I really don't want to see you ever again."

Tears sparked at this, but he tried yet again. "Eren, I'm sorry. I'm," but this time, he couldn't find any words to say, and just sat there, still looking for them.

However, Eren didn't give him any time to do so. "Leave. Go, I don't want you here, I don't-" the boy swallowed, and was he shaking, very, very slightly? Or was that just the tears that now blurred Armin's vision?

"I don't like it." He finished.

Armin stood up, blinking tears away and reached to hug Eren goodbye, but stopped when he flinched before Armin had even touched him.

"I'm, I'm sorry." He said, softly, before walking out of the room. There wasn't really anything else he could do.

Outside, with his back to the wall, he sunk to his knees once more, pathetically pawing for his phone in his jeans.

It took three rings for her to pick up.

"Hello?" A wary and concerned voice asked.

"Mikasa, he's-, he's-,"

"Oh _Armin_." She said, voice holding all of her pain in, and just full of understanding.

"He wouldn't even look at me, he told me that he didn't care and wanted me to leave," he choked out, words rushing together as they always did when he was upset. He really hoped Petra would still be inside and wouldn't be coming out anytime soon.

Mikasa just listened quietly, and Armin knew every word he said hurt her too, but you have no choice in hurting those who you love most in the world. It's because of the love, that it hurts.

"But, Mikasa, I can't give up on him! I can't stop caring about him, I never would!" Armin nearly wailed, because that was the worst part.

"I know," She said, and sighed; as if she had to carry something heavier than she was, but had no energy left to do so. "I know."

And that really was the worst part. You can't just leave the ones you care about- the thought wouldn't even cross your mind. You can only accept the pain they hurl at you, stay away until it wears off, and then go back to them only to receive the same once again. And you _know_ that. But you still go because that's what it means to love someone.

No matter what Eren had said, Armin knew he still _did _care. It was in the way he paused before telling Armin to leave- visibly unwilling, even if it were just for a few _seconds_, to hurt him anymore.

Eren was hurting very badly inside. And only he knew what that felt like. He was pushing them away, though, in such painful way.

"I shouldn't have gone today. Going today was a dumb idea." Armin sniffed, wiping his tears off with a tissue he'd procured from his jacket pocket.

The _'I told you so_' was nearly tangible in the air. But, because she was Mikasa, she settled for humming her agreement.

"I knew this would happen though. Or, I don't know. I hadn't seen him for so long." he sighed.

"I don't know what to do. But I have to do something." Armin continued. That's what it came down to, ultimately. Neither of them _could_ (could, and not would because it wasn't _possible_ for them to do so) give up, no matter what.

"You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped." It was the harsh truth, and Mikasa just sounded so very _tired_.

"But, I can't just give up, either."

"I know." she said, sighing again.

"Okay, I should go. I'm still…outside of his room. I'll talk to you when I get back." Armin didn't say thanks because he didn't need to.

"Take care. Armin, we'll make it through this." She told him, before the line disconnected.

Standing up, and dusting his pants off, Armin recollected all of his thoughts, a sense of _I need to do something_ filling him.

He settled on scribbling a note on a page ripped out from the memo book he always carried around with him.

_Eren, like I said, I'm never going to give up. I'll still be here, always._

_ Love,  
>Armin<em>

He almost added 'waiting' after 'I'll still be here' but instead wrote 'always' because it was more complicated than that.

Armin didn't really want to give it to Petra, but preferred giving it to her over everyone else because other people would require explanations and besides that he knew for sure that she'd pass the note onto Eren. A trained psychiatrist might not do so, but Petra surely would.

However, it still was at least _partially_ embarrassing, giving her such a not after crying like an infant in front of her.

He didn't have to wait long, for she bustled out of the room not much longer; her pager frantically beeping and most likely alerting her of crisis that overtook psych ward babysitting in terms of importance.

Armin jumped in her way, quickly, holding up the folded note. "Uhm, hey Petra. Err, sorry. Could you please do me a favor? Would you please just give this to Eren, later on, whenever you have time?"

"Oh sure, no problem." She agreed, taking the note and shoving it into her front pocket. "I'll get it to him, but I can't do it right now."

"That's okay! Thank you!" he said, full of fake cheer once more, as she brushed past him and rushed down the hallway, mind already onto other things.

Armin let out a deep breath, and covered his forehead with the palm of his hand.

Just as always, reality had failed to meet expectations. (Which was ironic because _that_ had been expected.) What a day, man. What a day. Life was spiraling out of control. Armin just really wanted to go home and sleep.

He was yawning, when someone else walked passed him, someone else he _knew_.

"Haaaaww-Marco?" He called out mid-yawn, maybe it was someone else?

But no, it really was Marco, the friendly senior he'd taken a psychology course with last year.

"Armin? Oh man, it's nice to see you! I heard you got into Trost Uni, congrats!" Marco grinned, still with those adorkabley parted bangs. "How goes college? Med's a killer, which is why I took psychology."

"It's great to see you too! You've gotten taller! Thanks, thanks, college is _hard _work but it's certainly an experience I won't regret. What're you doing here? Since this is a teaching hospital, I assume you're taking a course that has to do with your major?"

"You assume correctly, I'm working as an assistant under the department head. What about you? I wouldn't really expect to run into you here, of all places!" Marco said, before sheepishly adding, "Not that I mind."

Armin gestured back at Room 418's door with his hand right, "My close friend Eren's been admitted here, so I came by to see him." _And didn't even last twenty-two minutes you piece of useless crap_.

The thing about Marco, as opposed to other people, was that Armin knew Marco wasn't going to judge him (he _was_ being trained in psychology after all) and hence he wasn't hesitant in telling him that Eren was here.

"Oh, Eren? He's actually in the group therapy I participate in. Hasn't really talked much, yet, but that can only change in the future!" Marco was, of course, an optimistic person. Armin also appreciated his use of the word 'participate', over 'observe' which would have been the technical term.

"Oh, that's good…" Armin didn't _mean_ to look sad, he really didn't, but some things just couldn't be helped.

"Hey, it's okay. He's in good hands. We'll take care of him." Marco laid a reassuring arm on Armin's shoulder, a natural and not practiced smile on his face.

"Thanks." And he meant it sincerely. Armin went on to ask, "Would you mind in giving me your number? I don't really think I'll be visiting again anytime soon… so would you be able to give me updates on how he is?" Maybe he was pushing it a bit- he didn't want to seem like he was using Marco or anything, but this was _Marco_ and anyways, Armin would make it up to him someway or somehow later on.

"Of course. Here, it's…"

Armin walked out of the hospital that day, feeling better and worse at the same time.

* * *

><p><em>That very same day<em>

**Have you ever**

**Wanted to push everyone who loves you**

**So far away**

**That they would never be able to hear you scream**

**Or smell your blood**

**Or watch you die**

**Because**

**You are a danger**

**Worthless, and **

**Undeserving**

**Have you ever**

**Felt so much**

**That you were rendered numb**

**Your ears work**

**But they hear nothing**

**Your vocal cords **

**Remain unused**

**Your eyes**

**See only your demons**

**And inside of you lays liquid desperation**

**Have you ever **

**Walked around**

**Drowning in unfathomable isolation**

**Your lungs are full of air**

**Yet you can't breath**

**And suddenly your insides**

**Pool with emotion that burns you raw**

**Leaving you**

**Choking**

**On insanity**

**Have you ever**

**Wanted to be left alone**

**To die**

**To disappear**

**To be forgotten**

**The only reason **

**You would ever need**

**Being your **

**Entire **

**Existence**

I felt like I was drowning, and my body shuddered with deep breaths; trying its best to take in as much oxygen as possible.

It was not enough, and my mind began to cloud, the oxygen turning into liquid metal and clogging up my lungs.

The metal made its way up into my head, where it suddenly became scalding hot. And heavy.

I felt like I was going insane, words aren't enough to describe it.

I needed to get rid of this emotion metal and so I stood up and banged my head against the wall as hard as possible.

It was not enough, so I did it again.

It still was not enough.

My mind flickered through the possibilities, and my memory provided useful.

I rushed over to the other side of the room, and ran my hands through all of his things, recalling, remembering, _looking_, for it.

I found it.

I felt like I was going insane.

I raised it, wasting no time and

** _once_ **

** _twice_ **

** _thrice_ **

The liquid emotion metal spurted out of me, dripping onto the floor.

But the relief pain was not enough to overpower the constriction of my lungs.

** _once, _again **

** _twice, _again **

** _thrice, _again **

More, more, more. It was not enough and

I felt like I was going insane.

I was across the room, by then. I knew this, because I'd left a trail across it.

**Again**, until I lost count.

I was so useless, I was so pathetic, I was so _lonely_.

Tears gushed down my face then, why did Armin have to leave.

_Because I pushed him away._

_Because I shouldn't bring him down._

_Because I don't want to hurt him anymore._

Why hadn't Mikasa come yet.

_Because I pushed her away._

_Because she doesn't get it._

_Because I don't ever want to hurt her again._

But I was _alone_, and no one was there and it was so cold.

I fucked things up. I fucked everything up.

The floor met my cheek and it was cold and it felt good even though I was already so cold.

I felt like…

I didn't remember my thoughts anymore; they were all so blurred and fuzzy.

My breathing finally slowed down and I then needed much less air to breathe.

_I was so **alone**…_

* * *

><p><strong>Levi<strong>

The entire day goes by rather slowly.

I'd woken up at eight, fucking _eight AM_, with that brat nestled into me like some sort of mute cat. I'd then proceeded to kick him out of my bed, and go back to sleep because I'm not all that pleasant in the mornings, and ew, I didn't want him to drool on me or something.

He'd fallen on his ass, and blinked up at me, not understanding.

Spitting "Go sleep in your own fucking bed, you twat." at him certainly cleared things up quite effectively, though.

The kid, for his part, just dumbly complied; rubbing sleepily at his eyes before lying down on his bed, not even bothering to pull the covers back up.

After that, I slept like a cranky bitch for four hours and woke up still a cranky bitch to an empty room.

I took a shit, took a shower, and folded everything foldable in the room because I'm slightly nutso and it's fun. (Don't tell Erwin or Hanji. As much as they'd like me to, I am **not **sexually aroused by cleaning things. Dicks, _dicks_ do it for me.)

Well, after that, of course I was hungry so I trudged to the cafeteria and ate the inhumane abominations they call 'food'.

(Actually, the soup was quite good, especially with a couple of salty crackers.)

The rest of the day is wasted, wasted, wasted, by stalking Erwin with Hanji and harassing the latter.

"I think Erwin has a twin," Hanji whispers to me, as we watch him drink water from the water fountain. (Do not ask me why the hell I'm doing this with her, she tells me she has her reasons and I'd just really like to find something out to embarrass him with.)

"Why the fuck do you think that?" I ask, not bothering to keep my voice low. We aren't pretending to be _spies_ or whatever.

"Because. I think his twin is bald and all of the hair that he was supposed to have on his head, Erwin snatched in the womb and that gene expresses itself via his eyebrows."

I snort with laughter, while Hanji looks at me quite seriously.

"Anyways, I heard Erwin hooked you up with a new roommate! You never told me, I'm hurt." She frowns, and nudges me playfully with her elbow.

I roll my eyes in response. "Calm down, it's nothing big. Nothing worth mentioning."

But as I say this, the memory of last night comes back and…

"Levi! Leviiiii! Mr. Pygmy Dick!" She's saying, much too loudly for a hospital, waving her hand in front of my face. "Why're you zoning out, sweetums?"

"I'm not!" I retort. I look back around the corner, and my brows furrow in confusion. "Hanji, he's not there anymore."

"What?" She blinks back at me. "But he was right…"

Her phone's residual text tone (it's the noise of a pig snorting) sounds and she brings it up to observe the text message being displayed on the screen. I lean over her shoulder and read:

_Wig-win (7:28 PM): I am a single child and no, Hanji, I am not willing to donate any hair from my eyebrows for you to experiment on._

If anyone asks me why I have so less friends, I'll tell them it's because the ones I seem to make are as weird as greasy balls.

The tone sounds again.

_Win-win (7:29 PM): I've managed to acquire some doughuts. _

To that, Hanji replies immediately, with which I wholeheartedly agree.

_Me (7:29 PM): we r one our way _

"Not even a tiny little sample?" is the first thing Hanji asks, pleadingly, as she bounds into his office without a single knock.

"Nope." He answers, before devouring half of a glazed doughut in a single bite.

"Don't you get paid, for like, doing your job? Aren't you supposed to be operating on people and saving lives, you shitstain?" Knowing I won't accept the doughut he's already bitten, he fishes out another one from the box on his desk and offers it to me. I accept it, sit on his desk, and kick back and enjoy the doughut because I'm going to be going to hell anyways.

"It's holiday season, and the hospital's nearly empty. Not many cases have come through." He passes a rather odd looking _purple_ doughut (not purple icing, a literal purple doughut) to Hanji. I don't even bother asking.

I narrow my eyes. "Didn't you tell me 'the hospital's at full capacity', 'you have to have a roommate' and whatnot?"

Erwin smiles, the bastard. "That, I did."

"And?"

"And what? The hospital _is _at full capacity. Well, the ward is, at any rate. Speaking of which, your room's currently occupied, so it's best you retire to your room after 8."

"Why the hell is _my _room occupied?"

"Your roommate's gotten a visitor; he's probably in there right now." Hanji's the one to answer. "Don't look at me like that! It was on the ward sign-in sheets. I _do _do things legally, you know. Sometimes. Sometimes it's even my job to do so."

I roll my eyes again, but lean forward and ruffle her hair a little bit. (Not with the hand I'm eating with, of course.)

It's ten past eight when I'm walking back to my room. I decide to skip dinner, because three doughnuts keep you from feeling hungry, and I had drunken quite a lot of soup during lunch, along with eating those crackers.

I almost raise my hand to knock on the door before entering, but decide not to because it's later than 8 and the visitor should have left by now.

When I enter, I immediately know something's wrong. My instincts jump at me, and almost at once my eyes find the scattered red stains on the floor in front of my cabinet.

My cabinet door is wide open and the stains lead across the room, to…

Oh my…

My mind suddenly goes blank when I see a tearstained, bloodstained Eren slumped on the floor, in front of his bed.

Something in Eren's hand glints-my pocket knife and immediately everything pieces itself together.

And suddenly there's a rough knock at the door.

I don't know _what_ I'm doing or _why_ I'm doing it but I rush to the door, and crack it open, to see a smiling Petra, Eren's dinner tray in hand.

"Hey, Levi! I'm just here to give Eren his dinner." She gestures with her free hand at the tray.

"Yeah, I know, but he's taking a shower right now. I'd let you in but I'm in the midst of dressing." I've angled myself so only my head is visible, making it really seem like I'm possibly naked and hiding myself for the sake of modesty. "I could take his tray for him, if you don't mind." Shit, I sound way too polite.

I can tell she's thinking it over, but before she can make any decision, her pager beeps violently and she glances down at it. Her decision is then made and obvious because she doesn't stop smiling and lets me take the dinner tray from her through the door crack, before walking hurriedly away, excitedly muttering about some operation or the other under her breath.

I take the tray, and set it on the desk next to the door, keeping my left hand pressed against it so no one would be able to open it while I do so. (Which is irrational because it'd take only a few seconds to set the tray down and no one's going to try and burst in that time frame.)

I quickly lock the door (which can be opened by hospital staff if necessary, but it's better than nothing) and drag the lonesome desk's chair over, shoving it against the door to provide additional support even though it's pathetic and a crapshoot.

Turning around, I look back at Eren, who while his eyes aren't entirely closed, doesn't seem to be entirely conscious.

What _the fuck_ am I doing?

Ignoring all of the stains on the floor, I first move over to Eren, and inspect the shallow lacerations he's made with the pocket knife, all along his right arm.

He hadn't bothered to remove the bandage so it's pretty much shredded, as his new cuts mix in with his old, healing ones.

I quickly get up and hunt for the first aid kit that resides in every room. Then, I grab the single bath sponge I'd hidden from Eren and a bucket of water, taking it all over to him. I slowly pull him up, and off the ground, before leaning him against his bed. He's clenching the pocket-knife so hard that when I take it from him, I almost have to wretch it from his grasp.

"The fuck have you done, Eren?" I murmur, my tone _soft_ for some nonsensical reason as I calmly unwrap the remainders of the bandage off of his arm.

His hazy, sea-green eyes focus on me. "I…hurt, Armin." He mumbles, almost unintelligibly. "And I'm so…" he drifts off, before he tilts to the side (unintentionally, I think) until he's somewhat leaning on my side as well. I allow it.

"So?" I ask, but he doesn't respond, only flutters his eyelids; just barely keeping from passing out.

After the bandage is removed, I very slowly and gently begin to wash his arm, stopping whenever he flinches from the pain of the sponge passing over a cut.

When his arm is all clean once more, I'm very, _very_ thankful because none of the cuts are very deep, and hence he doesn't need to be re-admitted as a patient in that aspect. It's likely emotional stress which is causing him to nearly lose consciousness.

After his arm clean, and I've applied Neosporin all over it, I let that sit for a while, while I in the meantime, clean up the rest of the room; getting rid of the blood stains splattered across the floor (he hasn't lost a lot of blood, it's merely just made its way all around the room), and returning the desk's chair back to its rightful place as my irrational paranoia has worn off.

I'm no stranger to bandaging, so I'm able to adequately re-bandage his arm; clean white once again wrapping it.

Halfway through bandaging him, he becomes slightly more conscious, eyes widening a bit in recognition at me. He'll remember this part tomorrow, then.

When I'm done, I don't need to tell him to lay down on his bed; he does it himself. But just as he's feebly curling up on his bed and I'm turning around to make way to mine, I catch him murmuring

"So…_alone_."

And I _almost_ leave. I almost do. But suddenly my mind's jumping back to last night and my feet are burning and I just can't.

I turn back around completely, facing the bed and lean over him.

"_Move_." I glare at him, my voice vindictive.

His eyes widen again, this time with confusion and shock.

Hell, kid I don't even know what I'm doing myself.

But he obliges, and shuffles to the edge of the bed, his right side pressing up against the wall.

I swing myself up and onto the bed, turning to face him as he lays mere inches away from me.

We aren't touching at all, and I don't move to do so. Instead, I just lay there, sharing my warmth as I feel him breathing and feel his breath slowing down.

Time seems to momentarily stop, and my breaths slow down along with his.

And we fall asleep like that, together.


	7. Chapter 7: A Monologue

hello! i think it's time to break the writer/reader wall of stoic silence :3  
>sorry guys, i don't how ff works; i'm just getting used to it so until then please bear with my unresponsive dumbbutt (how do i reply to comments?! im so unfamiliar with this format, sorry ;u;)<br>thank you so much already for reading this far, and for those who have Favorited/followed/reviewed!  
>this was originally only on ao3 hence as i transported the chapters it seemed like i was super fast at updating im sorry, that's not actually the case, and since this has caught up to whatever i've posted on ao3, from now on expect much slower updates ;u; (but atleast once a month- i'll try my best to update twice or even thrice a month but i can't say how that'll go- however i can assure you an update per month<br>thank you for reading! comments & questions greatly appreciated!  
>now for the chapter<p>

* * *

><p>I lied. I had to be good at lying.<p>

(Or no one cared enough to look past my masking words.)

I always knew that there was something wrong with me. Or at least, the fact crept up on me. The pit in my stomach became deeper with each passing day, and my emotional spectrum eventually tilted entirely to one side.

I went through that stage in every teenager's life, where they sit and wonder, "Why am I alive?" Except, for me, it eventually morphed into "I don't need to be alive."

No, it morphed into "I _shouldn't_ be alive."

In school, my performance dropped greatly. From concentrated As, they slipped straight down to barely managed Cs, and finally hit rock bottom.

The week before I was admitted into the ward, I failed 4/6 of my midterms. I passed only English, and Physical Education.

All of my friendships vanished (were dropped) and my relationship with Mikasa existed solely due to the unbreakable tie entitled '_family_'.

It wasn't that I didn't care, I just, _didn't care_. I assure you, there's a difference. I didn't stop caring- I simply gave up.

And because of _that_, I stopped caring.

Fuck school, fuck friendships, fuck _life_ because all of those were mine and I, I didn't want them anymore because none of them needed me.

That doesn't seem to make much sense, does it? But it did to me, in my un-riddled mind.

Nothing needed me to be alive, and since I didn't need _myself_ to be alive, I started wanting to not live.

The fuck man, I was _worthless_.

(There was no reason for me to live. I didn't want to stay alive.)

How many times can I repeat those words before you lose interest and walk away?

(Before they lose meaning.)

BECAUSE THEY DON'T MAKE ANY SENSE. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS, AND I CAN'T MAKE ANYONE UNDERSTAND. THESE ARE JUST WORDS PLAYED OUT IN A VISIBLE FASHION AND THEY CAN'T MEAN TO ANYONE ELSE WHAT THEY MEAN TO ME.

_What is wrong with me? _I began to ask. No one but me heard, so of course no one but me could answer.

As a stereotypical emo kid does, I googled 'clinical depression' and ticked off all of the symptoms listed one by one.

But it's not like I gave a fuck. I didn't care that there was something wrong with me- it was just something to do; something to make me feel even worse because the quantity of pain stopped mattering too.

Anyways.

What is depression?

The doctors coin it a chemical imbalance in the brain. But to me, that's just an explanation for a lack of cognitive ability; a medical excuse for school and behavioral problems.

I couldn't focus in school, so this explained it. This gave a reason to why whatever the teachers were saying always turned out to be blank words, and why they would slip my mind regardless of how many times I read them, again and again.

(So I stopped reading them again and again.)

This explained why I didn't feel comfortable around other people, no matter whom. This explained why I lost interest in everything that should have held value to me.

(Relinquishing relationships until you are isolated and singular in presence- is that not like cutting off your limbs? Aren't relationships non-physical, abstract strengths that keep you firm and replete?)

This explained why I wanted to die?

NO, PLEASE DO NOT READ THOSE WORDS AND LET THEM DEFINE WHAT I FEEL. THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME, I DON'T KNOW WHAT OR WHY I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING FEELING LIKE THERE IS SOMETHING HORRIBLY WRONG WITH ME BUT THERE'S NOTHING VISIBLY WRONG WITH MY BODY SO WHAT IS IT?

What do you mean by depression?

That's what I want to ask myself. It's this term that people have defined me with. Like that's all you need to know about me, like that describes everything about me.

But, I wouldn't be able to argue otherwise. What else is there, to me? I can't find any words or pictures that would tell you who I am. To express who Eren Yeager is, I have nothing. Nothing describes me.

Nothing, the noun?

IS DEPRESSION DROWNING IN ANXIETY SO DEEP YOU CAN'T BREATHE AND THINK AT THE SAME TIME? IS DEPRESSION WHY I RAKE MY NAILS DOWN MY SCALP ON THE WORST NIGHTS? IS DEPRESSION ALL I AM?

When I went to school, people would avoid me like the plague. Actually, no. It was more like they didn't even acknowledge my existence the more reclusive I became.

I remember, once, the kid sitting at the desk next to mine didn't smile for half an hour and fifteen people asked her "What's wrong? Why are you so sad?"

Forget that I hadn't said a word since morning, forget that dark circles never left my eyes, forget that I shut my fucking mouth, something I wouldn't have done mere months before even if you'd _paid_ me.

Honestly, it felt like I had the words "THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS PERSON" written in thick, blocky letters across my forehead. But, you know, those words wouldn't fit.

"DEPRESSED" would fit better.

It's weird because 'Invisible' isn't a synonym of 'Depressed', but, oh well.

HAVE I BECOME TRANSPARENT? BECAUSE NO ONE SEES ME ANYMORE. IT'S LIKE EVERYTHING PASSES RIGHT THROUGH ME. DOES THAT MAKE ME A GHOST? THAT CAN'T BE RIGHT, I HAVEN'T DIED YET.

And then there was my mental instability. My mental state constantly wavered between various frequencies, and frequently in between them as well.

What I said, and what I did were all based off of misconceptions because my decaying mind couldn't understand or convey anything properly.

I remember certain nights when I could _recognize_ that vibrating band of instability running through my mind, when 7+ 5 would equal the fuck if I could tell you.

It was also another reason to avoid people. Because, sometimes it felt uncontrollable. That included my actions.

I could afford to be dangerous to myself, but never to others.

OH EREN, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHY ARE YOUR FINGERS TREMBLING, WHY IS YOUR WHOLE BODY SHAKING? WHAT HAS DRIVEN YOU OFF THE EDGE?

_[STOP ASKING QUESTIONS, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.]_

_[Please, stop asking questions.]_

What do you mean by depression?

The dictionary defines it as:

_'__Severe, typically prolonged, feelings of despondency and dejection.'_

The clinical dictionary defines it as:

_'__A __depression __so __severe __as __to __be __considered __abnormal, either __because __of __no __obvious __environmental __causes, __or __because __the reaction __to __unfortunate __life __circumstances __is __more __intense __or prolonged __than __would __generally __be __expected.'_

What do you mean by depression?

_How did it start?_

You slowly sink into it. It's this physical weight inside of you that gets heavier and heavier and never stops getting heavier. The distance between the walls of your throat decreases. Your body begins to lose energy and _decay_. A flower blooms in your mind; a beautiful, dangerous, ugly, horrid, wretched flower which consumes your mentality and poisons your nervous system. And you let it happen.

_And you let it happen._ Why? Because you are powerless. Your limbs are boundless and free but they cannot move. The density of the air surrounding you is too high- your body does not have the strength to move through it.

You are a puppet without a puppeteer. Without a will, without a burning desire to live, doesn't that make you just a doll?

You are a puppet without a puppeteer. _You are a doll._

People like to play with dolls.

But, the thing is, dolls don't _feel._ Dolls can't hurt; dolls can't feel pain.

What do you mean by depression?

'_Nothing, the noun?'_

_[Please stop asking questions.]_

_[Please be silent.]_

_[Please stop.]_

…


End file.
